It: 


4 


\ 


California 


r/ 


Lu 


THE 


SCENERY-SHOWER, 


WITH 


WORD-PAINTINGS 


THE  BEAUTIFUL,  THE  PICTURESQUE,  AND  THE 
GRAND  IN  NATURE. 


"  So  my  friend, 
Btniek  with  deep  joy  may  stand,  as  I  hare  stood, 
Silent  with  swimming  sense  ;  yea, 
•  •  •  gaze  till  all  doth  seem 

Leas  gross  than  bodily  ;  a  living  thing 
Which  acts  upon  the  mind,  and  with  such  hues 
As  clothe  the  All-mighty  Spirit  when  he  makes 
Spirits  perceive  his  presence  !  "  —  Coleridge. 


By  warren  burton, 

AUTHOR    OF    "  THE    DISTRICT    SCHOOL    AS    IT    WAS." 
♦ 


BOSTON: 
WILLIAM    D  .    T  I  C  K  N  O  R    &^    CO 

M  DCCC  XI.IV. 


J 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1844,  by  William 
D.  TicK.voR  ANiJ  CoMPANr,  in  tiie  Cierii's  Otfice  of  the  District 
Court  oi  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


boston: 
printed  by  thurston,  torry,  &.  kmerson, 

31   Devonshire  Street. 


TO 


GEORGE  B.  EMERSON,  ESQ., 
^resfdent  of  t|)e  ^metfcan  Knstftute  of  Xnstructfon. 


Dear  Sir, 

The  g-erm  of  the  present  little  work  was  a  Lec- 
ture delivered  before  the  body  over  which  you 
preside,  in  the  summer  of  1841.  The  favor  with 
which  it  was  generally  received,  and  especially  your 
own  warm  commendation,  in  respect  to  its  useful  ten- 
dency toward  the  end  in  view,  have  encouraged  me 
to  this  enlargement  and  greater  finish.  I  now  beg  the 
honor  of  dedicating  the  humble  volume,  through 
your  name,  to  self-culturists,  to  parents,  to 
SCHOOL-TEACHERS,  and  to  those  scEXERY-sEERS  who 
can  already  say, 

"  With  a  pervadiijg  vision  —  Beautiful ! 
How  beautiful  is  all  this  visible  world  !  '" 

With  the  highest  respect, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

WARREX  BURTOX. 
May,  1811. 


2073078 


CONTENTS 


Chap. 

Pas 

I.  Introduction,    . 

. 

1 

IT.  Morning,     .... 

. 

15 

III.  Verdure, 

. 

19 

IV.  Pictures  of  Nature  and  of  A 

rt,    .     . 

23 

V.  Swimming  Fields  —  Distant 
lines — Open  Roads — Ways 
Woods, 

Fence- 
through 

(29 

VI.  A  Domiciliary  Spectacle,     . 
VII.  Kocks  and  Cliffs,      . 

33 

36 

VIII.  Hills  and  Vales, 

42 

IX.  Trees,      .... 

. 

50 

X.  Colors  of  Vegetation,  . 

55 

XI.  W^aters,  .... 

. 

62 

XII.  Scenery  around  Water, 

66 

XIII.  An  Illusion, 

69 

XIV.  Mountains, 

73 

XV.  Water-Falls,    . 

. 

84 

XVI.  Ocean, 

89 

XVII.  The  Skies  of  Day,    . 

, 

94 

XVIII.  The  Moon, 

102 

XIX.  The  Stars, 

, 

106 

XX.  Winter,        .... 

ill 

XXI.  Conclusion, 

. 

117 

Page  5,  line  nine  from  bottom,  for  near  read  new. 

"     6,  line    eleven    from  bottom,  for  crookedness  read 

crookednesses. 
"    12,  line  six  from  bottom,  for  jest  read  zest. 
"   26,  line  eight  from  lop,. /or  portraitures  rearf  particulars. 
*'   51,  line  four  from  top,  for  practically  read  poetically. 
"    95,  line  eleven  from  l)ottom,  for  worthy  read  worth'. 
"   96,  first  line  at  top,  for  alternately  read  attractively. 


THE  SCEXERY-SHOWER 


CHAPTER  I. 


IXTRODLTTION. 


''How  lovely,  how  commanding!  but  though  Heaven 
In  every  heart  hath  sown  these  early  seeds 
Of  love  and  admiration,  yet  in  vain 
Without  fair  culture's  kind  parental  aid." 

Ake.vside. 

Scenery  is  the  appearance  of  things  to 
the  eye.  The  term  is  here  applied  to  ob- 
jects on  the  face  of  creation,  so  disposed  by 
form,  color,  dimension,  or  arrangement,  or 
by  several  of  these  circumstances  together, 
as  to  afford  peculiar  enjoyment  to  the  be- 
holder. 

There  are  some,  predisposed  by  constitu- 
tion, or  of  fortunate  early  education,  who 
1 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 


scarcely  remember  the  time  when  their  souls 
were  not  pleasurably  alive  to  the  beauty, 
picturesqueness,  and  grandeur  of  nature.  The 
perceptions  of  others  are  awakened  at  a  later 
period,  and  then  they  never  cease  to  rejoice, 
as  at  the  opening  of  anew  sense, to  a  divinely 
adapted,  unalloyed,  and  sinless  gratification. 
But  the  majority  of  people  spend  life  in  the 
midst  of  a  thousand  things  thus  interesting,  and 
seem  entirely  unconscious  of  the  charm  await- 
ing their  reception.  An  awful  thunder  cloud, 
a  glorious  rainbow,  or  a  magnificent  sunset, 
might  be  noticed  because  it  is  occasional,  but 
many  less  striking  phenomena  and  nearly  all 
the  permanent  aspects  of  nature,  might  as  well 
not  have  been  as  regards  fitness  to  please  by 
their  scenic  appearance.  This  inadvertency 
is  not  from  lack  of  faculty  to  admire,  or  of 
time  to  observe,  but  because  attention  has 
never  been  specifically  directed. 

Now,  notwithstanding  the  dormancy  of  the 
taste  in  view,  we  believe  it  may  be  aroused 
in  most,  to  receive  at  least  satisfactions  hap- 
pening in  the  way,  if  not  to  go  with  amateur 
zeal  in  search  of  the  distant. 


WITH     WORD-P  AI.NTIXGS.  O 

The  aim  of  our  humble  work  is  to  awaken 
perception  and  relish  by  presenting  appro- 
priate objects.  It  is  a  Scenery-shower  to 
tliose  who  have  not  much  contemplated  this 
boundless  field  of  happiness  out-spread  by 
skill  and  beneficence  Divine.  We  would 
supply  a  place  in  reading  which  has  hitherto 
been  nearly  or  quite  vacant.  We  hope,  how- 
ever, not  to  be  altogether  unacceptable  to  those 
whose  taste  has  been  already  developed,  and 
even  to  a  decree  far  hisiher  than  our  own.  The 
faint  word-paintings  on  our  page  may  serve  at 
least  to  recalto  conception  scenery  at  the  time 
beyond  convenient  reach  ;  to  aid  them  to  live 
over  again,  in  mind,  unsinning,  heaven-like  mo- 
ments, w^hen  they  stood  in  admiration,  love 
and  joy,  to  receive  into  vision  its  choicest 
riches.  We  trust,  moreover,  that  our  endea- 
vor may  stimulate  such  readers  to  benevolent 
activity  in  a  similar  direction.  We  now  re- 
spectfully but  earnestly  enjoin  on  them  to 
embrace  every  opportunity  to  lead  others  to 
a  good  which  Providence  has  before  vouch- 
safed to  them,  as  by  especial  favor. 

To  the  less  initiated  and   the  entirely  unap- 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 


joreciating  we  now  turn  address.  With  a 
directness  of  speech,  pardonable  from  sin- 
cerity of  motive,  we  entreat  them  to  a  dili- 
gent self-culture  in  the  respect  now  presented. 
It  is  remarkable  bow  a  taste  for  scenery  will 
grow,  with  pleasure  deepening  upon  pleasure, 
if  it  is  only  steadily  and  repeatedly  directed. 
It  is  with  the  mouldings  and  tintings  of  nature, 
as  with  the  pencillings  of  art,  the  more  they 
are  studied  the  more  they  win  and  fasten  the 
attention.  The  several  points  of  interest, 
figures,  hues,  lights,  shades,  proportions, 
come  into  clearer  and  clearer  distinctness  ; 
indeed  they  seem  to  move  visibly  out,  as  it 
were,  into  the  nearer  presence  of  the  sight, 
as  coveting  to  be  observed  and  to  confer  en- 
joyment. With  the  ordinary  mental  endow- 
ment any  one  will  find  valuable  reward  for 
such  employment  of  leisure.  Those  of  an 
organization  more  particularly  predisposing, 
have  only  to  look,  to  love  to  look,  till  their 
taste  shall  grow  into  a  very  passion.  We 
beg  leave  to  illustrate  by  a  passage  of  ex- 
perience. But  first  we  would  take  occasion 
to  entreat  the  candor  and  kind  regard  of  read- 


WITH    WORD-r.\I.NTINGS.  5 

ers  so  far  as  not  lo  impute  an  egotistical 
obtrusiveness,  if  they  shall  find  other  personal 
references  by  way  of  illustration,  or  increase 
of  interest.  We  know  that  incident  infuses 
life  and  entertainment  into  description  which 
otherwise  might  be  too  quiet  and  less  readable 
to  some  ;  and  if  the  incident  is  personal  to 
the  narrator,  and  modestly  presented,  it  has 
an  air  of  fresh  truthfulness  far  more  absorbing. 
Then  the  spirit  of  the  writer  thereby,  is  more 
present  and  real  to  the  spirit  of  the  peruser, 
and  they  go  along  together  in  more  sympa- 
thetic companionship.  Having  thus  humbly 
deprecated  criticism  on  our  self-personalities, 
we  introduce  our  first  instance  of  the  kind. 

Not  long  ago,  after  a  month's  travel  in  a 
portion  of  country  near  to  us,  and  therefore 
keeping  our  perceptions  in  constant  exercise 
by  change  of  objects,  we  returned  to  Boston, 
and  to  lodgings  in  a  tame  unsightly  street. 
But  the  prevention  of  our  customary  pleasure 
was  quite  a  discomfort.  The  city  seemed 
like  a  very  prison.  As  the  nearest  remedy 
we  took  to  the  common.  It  never  before 
seemed  so  charming,  although  we  had  saun- 
1* 


b  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

tered  there  a  thousand  times,  rapt  with  its 
surpassing  lovehness.  It  was  now  a  perfect 
paradise  in  contrast  with  the  stiff,  dead  wood 
and  brick,  from  which  we  had  escaped.  We 
were  surprised,  moreover,  to  find  that  our 
perceptive  faculties  had  remarkably  gained  in 
concentration,  and  particularity  of  attention. 
We  observed  the  individual  form  and  altitude 
of  tree,  the  bend  of  bough,  the  circularity  or  the 
angular  juxtaposition  of  branches,  the  fleeces 
of  foliage,  the  hue  and  shape  of  skyey  inter- 
spaces, with  a  distinctness  that  was  a  marvel. 
There  we  stood  under  the  great  dome  of  elm 
at  the  centre,  and  gazed  up  into  its  leaf-walled 
labyrinth  of  crookedness,  and  conned  them 
this  way  and  that  way,  all  round  and  all 
through,  as  we  would  the  lesson  of  a  book. 
The  very  pathways,  before  rather  tiresomely 
straight,  now  pleasantly  invited  the  eye  by 
their  slight  but  clearly  defined  turnings  to  and 
fro,  and  undulations  up  and  down,  as  if  in 
gentle  sportiveness  along  the  verdure.  But, 
O,  this  verdure,  soft  as  velvet,  rich  as  em- 
erald, spreading  between  the  brown  foot- 
courses,  and  lying  up  along  the  terraces,  how 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  7 

it  caught  the  eye  into  its  lovely  embrace  and 
held  it. 

Our  faculties  for  the  picturesque  and  beauti- 
ful had  been  at  school  with  Nature  for  weeks, 
and  they  had  not  only  grown  in  affection  for 
their  mistress,  but  had  been  measurably  de- 
veloped, just  as  the  organ  of  number  or  tune 
may  be,  by  practice  and  reiteration.  Indeed 
we  believe  that  one  might  learn  to  live  in  and 
be  lost  in  the  enchantments  of  scenery  ;  the 
sense  swimming  as  it  were  in  its  own  bound- 
less element,  drinking  in  therefrom,  unsated, 
ever  growing  in  strength,  widening  in  capa- 
city, and  perpetually  coveting  for  more. 

To  parents  and  teachers  we  now  turn  in  par- 
ticular address.  We  would  allure  their  eyes 
to  seek  and  fasten  delighted  on  those  scenes 
in  nature  now  about  to  be  presented  through 
the  dim  medium  of  language.  Let  them  be 
sure  to  lead  to  the  same  contemplation  the 
tender  ones  under  their  responsible  charge. 
We  beseech  them  to  reflect,  what  pure,  bliss- 
ful tastes  they  may  call  forth  from  their  ready 
and  waiting  minds  :  to  consider  with  solemn 
conscientiousness,  what  foul  desires,  low  van- 


8  THE    SCENF.RY-SHOWEK, 

ities,  and  unworthy  images,  they  can  exclude 
fronn  the  immortal  capacity  by  opening  it 
wide  to  receive  the  radiant  benefactions  of 
the  Father  of  lights. 

We  have  also  a  word  of  injunction  for 
those  of  mature  age  who  have  only  themselves 
particularly  to  care  for.  We  would  ask, 
ought  the  training  of  the  young  to  be  a  mat- 
ter separate  from  even  their  attention  and 
sympathy.  Every  child  belongs  in  some 
sort  to  every  other  individual  near,  inasmuch 
as  he  may  make  or  mar  the  happiness  of 
every  other  by  his  character  and  conduct. 
Is  not  moral  darkness  a  lack  and  discomfort 
to  all  beholders  ?  x\nd  does  not  moral  bright- 
ness shine  out  pleasingly  to  all  eyes  ?  Yes, 
all  have  a  direct  interest  in  the  education  of 
the  young,  not  only  for  their  own  sakes,  but 
for  the  special  good  they  may  confer.  Line 
upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  may  be 
given  in  instructive  conversation.  A  lecture, 
from  those  now  addressed,  on  any  useful  sub- 
ject, will  be  as  valuable  to  a  juvenile  group, 
or  to  a  single  individual,  as  it  would  be  from 
parent  or  school-teacher.     It  might  be  even 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS. 


of  more  worth,  inasmuch  as  the  unexpected- 
ness of  the  instruction  will  make  it  more 
impressive  and  rememberable.  We  make 
application  of  our  hints  to  the  topic  of  our 
volume.  How  might  they  excite  observation, 
and  develope  a  taste  for  scenery,  in  almost  any 
youth  present  to  such  attraction.  How  he 
w^ould  ever  afterward,  delightfully  remember 
them  as  the  first  perhaps  to  make  him  aware 
of  such  pure  enjoyment.  We  know  that  they 
can  do  this,  and  that  children  will  not  be  dull 
or  ungrateful  listeners.  A  portion  of  our  own 
experience  shall  illustrate. 

In  the  summer  of  1842,  on  a  pleasant  after- 
noon, we  had  occasion  to  visit  a  house  situated 
on  what  are  called  Roxbury  Highlands.  The 
friend  we  sought  being  at  the  time  absent,  we 
wandered  out  into  the  neighboring  grounds, 
well  known  to  be  charmingly  picturesque  from 
their  alternate  culture  and  wildness.  Our  ram- 
ble brought  us  to  a  clump  of  trees  shooting  up 
from  a  soil-covered  clifF.  Beneath  the  leafy 
covert  was  a  rustic  seat  convenient  to  the 
lounging  body  and  the  looking  eye.  And 
there    commenced   an    adventure,   which   we 


10 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 


now  turn  to  account.  Here  were  two  boys, 
of  ten  or  a  dozen  years  old,  one  of  them  the 
son  of  our  friend.  They  seemed  to  have  pro- 
vided for  a  long  afternoon  in  their  shady 
perch,  by  a  store  of  bread  for  luncheon  and 
a  book  or  two  for  amusement.  The  sight  was 
gladdening.  The  future  literati  of  our  land 
they  might  be,  wise  enough  already  to  know 
that  fragrant  earth  and  fanning  breezes  were 
elements  of  healthy  growth  both  to  body  and 
spirit.  They  might  be  two  embryo  Howitts, 
who  would  some  time  write  "  Rural  Life  " 
in  America.  At  first  our  new  acquaintances 
were  rather  shy,  seeming  to  prefer  alternate 
snatches  at  their  bread-feed  and  book-feed  to 
our  conversation.  But  we  knew  how  to  take 
boyhood,  and  we  quite  soon  dropped  into 
their  companionship,  as  easily  as  we  might 
have  dropped  with  them  on  the  greensward. 
We  contrived  to  get  them  into  our  own  cur- 
rent of  entertainment,  which  was  scenery- 
seeing,  and  they  took  to  it  marvellously, 
entirely  forgetting  their  loaf  and  literature. 
If  we  recollect  aright  at  this  distance  of  time, 
there  was  near  by   a  tree  of  singular  appear- 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  II 

ance.  They  had  before  observed  it  as  curi- 
ous ;  and  now,  with  our  own  interest  excited, 
they  descanted  on  the  object  with  surprising 
volubility.  They  were  now  ready  to  follow 
the  pointing  of  our  finger  or  the  guidance  of 
our  footsteps  anywhere.  We  showed  them  a 
narrow  field,  with  a  grey  fence  at  one  end 
and  a  cliff  at  the  other,  if  we  remember,  and 
on  each  side  a  grove,  walling  it  up  with  thick- 
set trunks  all  regularly  round,  and  overtowered 
by  interlapj  ing  foliage.  We  made  them  gaze 
at  the  spectacle  till  they  thought  it  beautiful, 
and  seeming  almost  like  a  very  picture  in  a 
book.  We  then  went  down  to  a  brook  that 
stole  out  into  view  from  a  bridge-shadow  and 
flowed  beside  a  dusty  road,  and  we  gazed 
down  upon  its  ripples  and  the  stones  and  peb- 
bles that  spotted,  and  specked,  and  roughened 
the  bed  beneath.  They  seemed  interested  in 
the  sight.  x\t  any  rate  they  looked,  and 
looking  was  a  discipline  that  would  lead  into 
pleasure.  We  came  back  and  ranged  below 
a  long  high  cliff  overtopped  by  trees.  We 
tried  to  make  them  feel  the  picturesqueness, 
although  they  might  not  have  understood   the 


12  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

word  by  which  we  now  express  the  idea. 
We  are  certain  that  they  caught  the  desirable 
emotions.  Indeed  the  boys  grew  lively  and 
emphatic  in  their  admiration  of  the  various 
features  of  the  landscape.  We  were  soon 
joined  in  our  rambles  by  a  little  girl,  the  sister 
of  one  of  our  companions,  and  she  too  caught 
the  spirit  of  our  pastime.  They  all,  with 
glowing  faces  and  beaming  eyes,  ran  through 
the  groves,  scrambled  up  rocks,  getting  a  peep 
here  and  a  peep  there  ;  then  they  mounted  up 
a  wooden  prospect-tower  in  one  of  the  grounds 
for  a  wider  view  and  still  new  objects,  ex- 
claiming at  the  different  points,  see  here,  or 
see  there,  and  isn't  this,  that,  or  the  other, 
beautiful,  or  grand  ?  Thus  we  were  held  till 
it  grew  quite  toward  evening,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  leave  the  most  elating  companion- 
ship we  had  known  for  many  a  day.  A  large 
portion  of  the  jest  might  have  been  the  result 
of  mere  animal  spirits,  yet  there  was  withal 
a  kindled  and  still  kindling  love  for  scenery  ; 
we  know  there  was,  and  in  consequence  of 
our  success  we  truly  wished  that  there  was 
such  an   establishment  as  a  Scenery  School, 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  13 

and  that  we  were  appointed  Professor  of  the 
charming  science  of  the  Picturesque.  A  few 
days  after  our  adventure  we  met  our  friend  in 
the  city,  and  he  gave  us  one  of  the  most  cor- 
dial looks  and  greetings  that  ever  gushed  from 
his  benevolent  aspect.  "  Come,"  said  he, 
"and  spend  a  week  with  us  at  Roxbury  ;  the 
children  want  to  see  you."  The  egotism  of 
recording  this  commendation  is  pardonable  we 
trust,  as  it  is  necessary  to  the  completion  of 
our  narrative,  and  to  point  an  illustration  with 
the  most  convincing  evidence,  —  the  desire  to 
see  us  again  and  for  days  together. 

In  closing  our  preface  we  will  just  add, 
that  we  long  to  have  children  led  to  gaze  on, 
and  study,  and  intensely  enjoy,  pure,  sinless 
nature,  as  we  did  when  a  boy  without  a  guide,  " 
yea,  all  alone,  amid  the  scattered  farm-spots 
and  rocky  and  foliaged  solitudes  of  romantic 
New  England.  O,  that  we  could  ourselves 
be  bodily  present  to  them  all,  and  with  finger, 
and  eye,  and  tone,  direct  them  to  whatever  is 
lovely  in  the  less,  magnificent  in  the  larger, 
and  grand  in  the  mightier  scenes  of  our  mul- 
tiform land.  AVould  that  we  could  inspire 
2 


14 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 


their  souls  with  an  enthusiasm  Hke  that  which 
gives  something  hke  a  portion  of  paradise  to 
our  own.  AVe  trust,  however,  that  soon  there 
will  not  be  wanting  to  most,  alert  scenery- 
showers,  who,  by  glowing  words,  in  tones  of 
love-melody,  and  by  sweetly  eloquent  looks, 
shall  convey  to  their  souls  these  purest  of 
visible  gifts  from  the  Invisible  Giver. 


CHAPTER  IT. 

MORMNG. 
*'  Hail  holy  Light,  offspring  of  Heaven  first  born  !" 

MlLTO.N. 

"  The  morn  is  up  again,  the  dewy  morn, 
With  breath  all  incense  and  with  cheek  all  bloom, 
Laughing  the  clouds  away." 

''  Most  glorious  orb  that  wert  a  worship,  ere 
The  mystery  of  thy  making  was  rev(;aled  ! 
Thou  earliest  minister  of  the  All-mighty, 
And  representative  of  the  Unknown  — 
Who  chose  thee  for  his  shadow  !  " 

BVRON. 

First  born  of  the  lovely  in  nature  is  the 
light.  The  most  sweetly,  winningly  fair  of 
the  day,  is  the  dawn.  The  most  purely  glori- 
ous of  effulgent  exhibitions,  is  the  full-kindled 
morning.  We  place  their  pictures,  therefore, 
near  the  entrance  of  our  gallery,  as  fittest  to 
greet  the  visitor  to  its  series  of  shows.  At 
first,  there  is  but  a  peep  of  light,  like  the  gleam 


16  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

of  an  eye,  answering  to  your  own  with  tender, 
cheerful  welcome.  Now  a  wider  flash.  Anon 
the  beaming  spectacle  runs  into  streaky  length, 
like  a  changeable  ribbon,  hemming  the  horizon. 
It  brightens  up  more  broadly,  and  glows  and 
glows,  varying  its  hues  almost  while  you  wink. 
Perhaps  tufts  and  bars,  or  fleecy  curtains  of 
cloud,  add  a  garniture  of  bewitching  tinges. 
At  length  the  spacious  East  is  one  vast  court 
of  magnificence.  Central  amid  the  pomp,  the 
solar  monarch  rolls  royally  up  with  his  chariot 
of  changeful  flame.  The  auroral  heralds  and 
all  the  rainbow  retinue  gradually  retire  from 
ministration  at  the  presence,  and  the  Day- 
King  in  solitary  potency  possesses  his  realm. 
Human  eyes,  dazzled  to  blindness,  must  now 
turn  away  to  pursue  their  duty  by  his  reflected 
and  softer  light. 

In  the  summer,  simultaneous  with  this 
spectacle  of  the  sky,  is  another,  which  scep- 
tres with  all  their  power  could  not  command, 
or  wealth  with  all  its  monies  provide  or  equal; 
yet,  outspread  for  millions  to  enjoy,  the  poor- 
est as  well  as  richest,  will  they  but  look.  It 
is    the   all-bespangling    and    sparkling    dews. 


•WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS  1/ 

They  begin  to  glitter  with  the  first  glimpses 
from  the  orient.  They  awaken  even  with  the 
day-star,  and  gently  acknowledge  its  tender 
beams.  But  as  the  dawn  advances,  how  the 
beaded  prisms  glorify  the  herbage.  Had  we 
microscopic  eyes,  every  drop  would  appear  to 
reflect  the  exact  morning  with  all  its  changes 
on  atmosphere  and  cloud  :  aurora  beholding 
herself  multiplied  to  millions,  by  millions  of 
dewy  mirrors. 

Our  sketches  are  dedicated  to  the  soul 
through  the  eye.  But  accompanying  this 
freshest  blazon  of  lights  there  is  a  luxury  for 
the  ear  with  which  we  would  enhance  the  al- 
lurements of  the  scene.  It  is  music  ;  music 
such  as  first  from  living  breath  greeted  and 
satisfied  man  in  sinless  Eden  ;  the  "  charm  of 
earliest  bird."  At  the  faintest  appearance  of 
day  a  few  of  the  heaven-taught  melodists  have 
caught  it  in  their  peering  sight  and  are  stirring 
among  the  branches.  Hark  !  like  prompt 
choristers,  here  and  there  in  their  leafy  cov- 
erts they  are  setting  the  tune  for  the  general 
orchestra  of  the  morning.  A  brief  pause  ; 
2* 


IS  THE    SCENERr-SHOWER. 

then   a  great  orison  goes  up  from   amid  the 
yet  twilight-dim  trees,  seemingly  in 

''  His  praise  who  out  of  darkness  called  up  light." 

Come  out  then  thou  into  whose  eyes  not 
only,  but  into  whose  immortal  soul-depths  the 
shining  may  be  !  Come  out,  not  only  to  gaze 
but  to  listen.  The  most  ancient  and  holiest 
visible  temple  is  re-illumined  and  specially 
adorned  for  this  sacrifice.  Freshness  and 
fragrance  float  as  the  incense,  and  imbue  the 
breath  of  life  and  of  vocal  expression.  On 
the  grand  hosanna,  as  a  tuneful  chariot,  fling 
thine  own  grateful  worship,  to  roll  upward  to 
Him,  who  would  have  from  thee  a  melody  of 
the  heart,  harmonious  with  those  angels  whose 
kindred  thou  art,  for  whose  companionship 
thou  art  designed,  and  who, 

''  with  songs 
And  choral  symphonies,  day  without  night 
Circle  his  throne  rejoicing." 


CHAPTER  III. 

VERDURE. 

"  Gay  Green  ! 
Thou  smiling  Nature's  universal  robe  ! 
United  light  and  shade  !  where  the  sight  dwells 
"With  growing  strength,  and  ever  new  delight." 

Thomson. 

The  rich  scenery  seasons  open  after  the 
repose  of  winter  with  the  hue  thus  described. 
Of  all  the  family  of  lights  it  is  the  eye's 
chief  favorite.  It  holds  the  sense  the  longest 
without  weariness  or  satiety.  It  is  the  wise 
fiat  of  nature  that  her  "universal  robe" 
should  perpetually  please.  Yet  a  taste  for  the 
enjoyment  of  this  color  might  become  more 
deep  and  intense  than  it  generally  is.  We 
wish  that  we  could  somewhat  present  its  at- 
traction to  the  less  cultivated  and  careless 
observer   through    the   medium    of  language. 


THE    SCEXFRY-SHOWER, 


We  paint  as  it  appears  to  one  loving  the  ver- 
dure with  a  very  passion. 

The  spring  very  gradually  produces  the 
hue,  sprinkling  it  here  and  there,  as  if  the 
uninured  sight  might  be  oppressed  with  its 
own  luxury,  were  there  suddenly  presented 
that  boundless  bounty  at  length  cast  abroad. 
At  first  perhaps  a  verdant  line  may  be  dis- 
covered close  under  the  sunny  side  of  abodes, 
as  if  seeking  domestic  protection  from  the  yet 
lingering  cold.  The  tender  creature  may  be 
found  also  nestling  in  some  warm  little  hollow, 
where  the  eye  may  leap  in  like  a  fondling  from 
the  surrounding  brownness.  That  relic  of  the 
winter,  the  snow-drift,  softening  under  the 
subtle  heat,  is  made  to  distil  into  nutriment 
for  this  emerald  child  of  the  sun,  and  it  em- 
braces its  dying  nurse  with  its  tender  contrast 
of  beauty.  ?S^ow  a  witching  stripe  is  traced 
from  where  the  streamlet  steals  out  from  its 
source,  and 

''  is  faintly  seen, 
A  line  of  silver  mid  a  fringe  of  green." 

There   are   also  large  mats  of  spreading  ver- 
dure in  more  sheltered    nooks.       There  are 


WITH     WORD-PAINTINGS.  21 

fields  of  more  fertile  soil  and  sunnier  aspect 
which  soon  present  one  broad  unbroken  ex- 
panse of  the  new  herbage.  Here  the  vision 
can  leap  into  the  clear,  bright  depths,  and 
as  it  were,  swim  along  bathed  and  imbued 
with  its  best  adapted  and  most  delicious  ele- 
ment. 

In  the  early  spring  and  in  the  later  autumn, 
when  vegetation  was  just  peeping  from  its  root, 
or  was  withering  back  again  to  its  root,  we 
have  ourselves  often  walked  to  a  considerable 
distance  to  gaze  on  the  young  grass  that 
thickly  carpeted  a  warm  hill-side,  exposed  to 
the  enriching  drainage  of  buildings  above. 
This  firstling  of  the  vegetating  fields  when  con- 
trasted with  the  adjacent  and  dusky  bareness, 
was  a  perfect  fascination,  a  very  elysium  to 
the  sight.  It  is  some  years  since  we  dwelt 
in  the  vicinity  of  this  particular  spectacle,  yet 
how  often  has  it  spread  its  soft  witchery  to  our 
conception.  It  has  been  a  pastime  to  recol- 
lection amid  the  perplexing  cares,  indeed  a 
very  solace  amid  the  troubles  of  life. 

But  we  must  hasten  after  the  progressive 
season   and  finish  our  vernal  painting.      The 


22  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 

delicious  color  widens  through  the  valleys, 
sheets  over  the  hills,  runs  up  and  enfolds  shrub, 
tree,  and  the  whole  of  the  great  woods,  till  all 
is  one  wide  emerald  magnificence.  The  sight 
is  now  satisfied  but  not  cloyed  with  one  con- 
tinuous color.  Indeed  it  finds  a  sort  of  ecstasy 
in  the  vastness  of  its  single-hued  range.  Let 
it  repose  near  by,  or  journey  all  round  and 
afar,  it  is  boundless,  beauteous  green. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PICTURES  OF  NATURE  AND  OF  ART. 

"  Beauty  —  a  living  presence  of  the  earth, 
Surpassing  the  most  fair  ideal  forms 
Which  craft  of  delicate  spirits  hath  composed 
From  earth's  materials —  waits  upon  my  steps  ; 
Pilches  her  tents  before  me  as  I  move, 
An  hourly  neighbor  —  Paradise  and  groves 
Elysian  —  Fortunate  fields  —  like  those  of  old 
Sought  in  the  Atlantic  main  —  why  should  they  be 
A  history  only  of  departed  things, 
Or  a  mere  fiction  of  what  never  was  ? 
For  the  discerning  intellect  of  man, 
When  wedded  to  this  goodly  universe 
In  love  and  holy  passion,  shall  find  these 
A  simple  produce  of  the  common  day." 

WORUSWOKTH. 

The  eye  may  be  profitably  trained  to  ob- 
servation by  all  things  visible  whatever.  And 
in    many  of  these   which    are   generallv    iin- 


24  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

noticed  there  may  be  found  a  scenic  pleasure 
worth  securing.  For  the  sake  of  discipline, 
we  would  carefully  notice  any  little  protuber- 
ance that  knobs,  or  hollow  that  indents  the 
land,  and  indeed  any  distinctive  lineament  or 
point  on  the  surface.  All  colors  with  their 
shifting  lights  and  shades,  all  plants,  shrubs 
and  rocks,  however  lowly  and  uninviting 
amid  more  imposing  things,  are  worth  the 
scanning,  if  for  nothing  more  at  least  to  gain 
in  minuteness  of  attention.  But  even  where 
two  or  three  of  these  are  in  juxtaposition, 
there  is  a  sort  of  picturesqueness'  which  may 
afford  an  humble  pleasure  of  appreciable 
value  to  the  studious  eye.  Wherever  we  are 
almost  we  may  be  at  our  discipline  and  some 
degree  of  enjoyment.  Suppose  we  are  stand- 
ing leisurely  at  a  dwelling  door.  There  is 
perhaps  the  stone-paved  or  pebble-strewn  walk 
running  down  to  the  gate  ;  or  it  may  be 
nothing  but  a  little  path  foot-worn  upon  the 
turf,  or  into  the  unsodded  soil.  There  is  a 
real  picture-like  beauty  in  this  as  contrasted 
with  the  planted  borders  or  the  plain  herbage 
through  which  it  passes.      There  is  moreover 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS. 


25 


the  fence  around;  it  matters  not  if  it  be  a  rough, 
broken  stone  wall,  or  of  rudest  boards  or  bars, 
all  askant  with  age  and  neglect.  Their  odd 
shapes,  careless  positions,  patches  of  moss, 
and  old  weather-stains,  are  worth  looking  at. 
Indeed  when  the  likenesses  of  these  are  skil- 
fully portrayed  by  the  pencil,  they  are  con- 
sidered beauties.  Surely  the  accurate  obser- 
vation of  such  substances  will  at  least  prepare 
the  taste  for  the  artist's  imitations. 

We  beg  leave  to  detain  the  reader  a  little 
by  a  kw  remarks  about  such  productions  of 
art,  together  with  some  practical  hints  apper- 
taining to  the  scenery-shows  of  nature. 

What  an  admirable  picture  !  exclaim  the 
tasteful,  contemplating  a  fine  landscape  from 
the  artist's  skill.  Beautiful  !  exclaim  the 
less  tasteful  in  view  of  coarser  or  the  coarsest 
imitation.  How  pretty  !  cries  childhood  over 
almost  any  thing  of  the  kind.  Educated  and 
ignorant,  older  and  younger,  find  enjoyment  in 
pictures.  One  reason  probably  is,  that  the 
presentation  of  a  picture  is  occasional,  and  it 
has  somewhat  the  novelty  of  an  incident 
about  it,  and  therefore  seizes  en  the  atten- 
3 


26  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

tion  with  a  sudden  grasp  as  things  occasional 
and  incidental  generally  do.  Another  reason 
may  be,  that  a  picture  is  a  little  spectacle  sepa- 
rate from  every  thing  else.  It  is  not  amalga- 
mated with  and  lost  among  innumerable  other 
spectacles  of  a  similar  kind.  The  eye  easily 
runs  round  its  limits  and  dwells  on  its  few 
portraitures  undisturbed  by  multiplicity.  Be- 
sides, one  feels  the  wonderfulness  of  imitation 
and  resemblance  ;  feels,  though  perhaps  not 
much  thinks,  what  a  curious  fact  it  is  that  the 
appearance  of  real  substances  which  stand  up 
from  the  ground  and  can  be  grasped  with  the 
hands  and  climbed  upon  with  the  feet,  may  be 
put  on  a  surface  of  unvarying  flatness,  and 
be  made  almost  to  seem  the   very  things  they 

copy- 
Now,  w^e  believe,  that  with  the  exception 
of  the  circumstances  of  novelty,  resemblance 
and  admired  skill,  all  the  pleasure  found  in  a 
picture  may  be  afibrded  by  original  nature. 
All  creation  presented  to  the  eye  is  but  a  vast 
painting,  a  spectacle  of  colors  with  lights  and 
shades.  Let  the  illuminations  from  the  hea- 
vens be  shut  out  by  night  and  clouds,  and  no 


WITEI     WORD-PAINTINGS.  27 

artificial  one's  of  earth  be  instead,  and  the 
whole  vanishes,  never  more  to  exist  unless 
these  illuminators  again  lend  their  aid.  It  is 
the  experienced  consciousness  of  substantial 
matter,  having  definite  size,  shape,  and  other 
qualities,  and  also  of  the  different  distances 
of  objects,  together  with  the  multiplicity  and 
universality  of  colors,  that  prevents  the  mind 
from  the  truth  that  all  is  but  color  that  the 
eye  beholds,  to  be  gone  in  a  moment  bereft 
of  this. 

The  commonness  of  the  spectacle,  more- 
over, deprives  it  of  interest  ;  but  if  the  eye 
does  pause  to  observe,  it  is  often  confused 
and  bewildered  in  the  complexity  and  various- 
ness,  unless  it  be  disciplined  to  particular 
inspection.  Again  and  again  therefore  we 
commend  any  aspect  of  nature,  any  little 
portion  of  earth  with  its  few  objects  above, 
to  studious  observation.  Roll  up  the  hand 
and  look  through  at  the  space  thus  separated 
from  other  things,  and  the  attention  will  be 
thus  concentrated  and  distinctness  acquired, 
as  in  a  gallery  of  paintings  by  the  little  tubes 
there  provided  for  visitors. 


28  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

Gaze,  gaze,  discipline  the  perceptions,  and 
with  a  constantly  growing  pleasure  shall  be 
verified  the  poet's  encouraging  thought,  that 
things  beautiful  are 

"  A  simple  produce  of  the  common  day." 


CHAPTER  V. 

SWIMMING  FIELDS  — DISTANT  FENCE-LINES  —  OPEX 
ROADS  — WAYS  THROUGH  WOODS. 

"A  thing  of  beauty  is  a  joy  forever  ; 

Its  loveliness  increases;  it  will  never 

Pass  into  nothingness,  but  still  will  keep 

A  bower  quiet  for  us,  and  a  sleep 

Full  of  sweet  dreams,  and  health,  and  quiet  breathing; 

Therefore,  on  every  morn  are  we  wreathing 

A  flowery  band  to  bind  us  to  the  earth." 

Keats. 

We  now  present  a  few  more  ordinary 
appearances,  not  without  scenic  interest  if 
but  observed  with  the  spirit  felt  by  the  bard, 
or  which  by  cuhure  may  spring  up  in  ahnost 
any  one  not  a  bard. 

Most  have  noticed  how  a  day  or  two  of 
rain,  such  as  we  sometimes  have  in  summer, 
will  drench  and  saturate  the  fields  with  wet- 
ness, so  that  the  herbage,  while  it  freshens  to  a 
livelier  green,  seems  as  it  were  to  be  buoyed 
3* 


30  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

up  by  the  liquid  element  that  fills  it.  After  a 
parching  drought  how  the  thirsty  eye  drinks 
and  luxuriates  in  such  a  spectacle.  Rainy- 
day  idleness  might  here  snatch  at  least  a  sip 
of  pleasure  :  and  the  tasteful  traveller  would 
somewhat  forget  the  diizzling  clouds  in  such  a 
refreshment  of  vision. 

The  straight  stone  w^all  dividing  green 
fields  is  a  pleasant  object  to  look  at,  especially 
if  the  roughness  be  lost  in  the  distance  and 
the  fence  appear  as  a  dark  smooth  hne  mark- 
ing the  verdure.  In  the  many  positions  of 
fences  relative  to  each  other  and  to  the  grassy 
level,  the  standing  grain,  the  rounding  hill,  or 
the  tall  wood,  there  are  various  interesting 
aspects,  which  to  the  uninitiated  need  to  be 
pointed  out  with  the  finger  as  well  as  described 
in  language. 

There  is  a  picturesque  beauty  in  a  simple 
road,  with  a  strip  of  herbage  for  a  border  and 
a  grey  wall  for  rim,  then  on  either  side  the 
expanses  of  field  or  pasture  verdure  between 
w^hich  it  runs.  We  have  many  a  time  stopped 
and  gazed  with  a  very  desirable  pleasure,  at  a 
little  fragment  of  road  thus  circumstanced,  rising 


WITH    W0RD-PAI\TING3.  31 

white  out  of  a  valley  and  curving  over  a  hill 
and  then  again  lost.  Indeed  the  richest  pic- 
ture in  the  gallery  of  art  would  not  tempt  us 
to  exchange  for  its  possession  the  capacity  of 
enjoying  the  scenic  beauty  of  a  dusty  high- 
way, only  let  it  be  far  enough  off  to  give  its 
best  display,  and  nothing  of  its  dust. 

A  word  more  about  roads.  Take  one 
stretching  straight  and  far  through  a  wood. 
As  it  runs  on  and  on,  its  vista  of  whitish  bot- 
tom, verdant  walls  and  skyey  roof,  seem  to 
narrow  and  narrow  toward  a  point,  the  per- 
spective in  the  distance  diminishing  to  minia- 
ture like  a  picture. 

There  is  also  the  winding  path  through  the 
woods.  You  turn  this  way  and  that,  and 
perhaps  undulate  up  and  down.  New  objects 
burst  continually  on  the  view,  and  the  eye 
must  be  busy  to  catch  them.  You  wonder 
all  the  while  what  will  come  next,  and  where 
you  shall  come  out,  like  as  in  the  fortunes 
of  a  romance.  Then  when  you  at  length 
emerge,  the  brighter  light  and  the  broad  clear 
lands  seem  like  the  happy  conclusion  of  an  un- 
certain story.      By  a  cultivated  relish  for  ap- 


32  THE    SCENERY'SHOVTER. 

peaiances  of  this  sort,  how  might  we  lighten  the 
tedioLisness  of  travel.  How,  catching  words 
already  quoted  from  the  poet,  we  should  find 
beauty  waiting  on  our  steps  and  pitching  her 
tents  before  us  as  we  move,  an  hourly  neigh- 
bor. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A  DOMICILIARY  SPECTACLE. 


"  Me,  oft  has  fancy,  ludicrous  and  wild, 
Soothed  with  a  waking  dream  of  houses,  towers, 
Trees,  churches  and  strange  visages,  expressed 
In  the  red  cinders,  while  with  poring  eye 
I  gazed,  myself  creating  what  I  saw^" 

COWPER. 

We  have  a  poet's  warrant  for  the  first 
scene  of  this  chapter  ;  and  if  the  reader 
has  perused  the  observant  and  graphic  Cow- 
per,  the  rest  will  not  be  without  interest, 
ahhough  the  dear  old  bard  has  not  painted 
it  on  his  page.  He  loved  almost  every 
possible  show  in  nature,  and  he  who  has 
caught  the  spirit  of  his  muse  will  require  of 
us  no  further  apology.  Twilight,  and  at  the 
fireside  ;  no  lamp,  no  book,  no  work  ;  need 
the  space  be  lacking  of  interest  to  the  solitary 
sitter  ?     Let   him   watch   the  glow  of  the  in- 


34  THE    SCENF.RY-SHOWER, 

tensely  ignited  coals  and  realize  the  soothing 
waking  dream. 

As  the  fire  works  round  and  through  the  fuel, 
liow  the  eye,  aided  a  little  by  fancy,  perceives 
all  sorts  of  fairy  shows,  a  miniature  theatre  of 
shifting  scenery.  But  the  portraiture  of  our 
quotation  suffices  for  this  ;  so  we  pass  to 
another. 

Suppose  it  bright  day  time,  when  hue  and 
motion  are  more  distinctly  visible,  there  is  the 
smoke,  that  accompaniment  of  flame,  not  par- 
ticularly desirable  for  comfort  or  cookery,  — 
yet  it  is  not  undesirable  as  a  spectacle  of 
color,  form  and  motion,  to  a  child  or  anybody 
else.  How  mysteriously  copious  the  vapor 
steals  out  from  the  apparently  solid  substance, 
of  a  whitish  blue,  from  a  green  stick,  curling 
and  mingling  with  the  darker  blue  of  the  drier. 
With  what  grace  it  turns,  and  twists,  and  bulges 
out  its  fleece  after  fleece,  and  then  unrolls 
and  shoots  more  straightly  up  through  the  flue. 

There  is  another  smoke- scene  from  the 
chimney  top  w^orth  beholding.  Take  a  still 
autumnal  morning,  with  what  stateliness  the 
creature  rises  into  a  tall  perpendicular  column 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  35 

as  If  it  stood  compact  like  a  tree,  yet  every 
particle  Is  In  motion  ;  then  there  Is  the  spread- 
ing out  and  folding  over  at  the  summit  like  a 
canopy,  sometimes  the  whole  diversified 
with  noticeable  varieties  of  color  in  the  sun- 
light. How  often,  when  but  a  child,  have 
we  watched  this  ordinary  exhibition.  The 
eye  would  be  caught  by  the  wreathy  wile,  and 
be  borne  up  and  up  till  released  by  the  un- 
rolling of  its  fairy-like  vehicle,  when  it  would 
return  down  and  be  furled  and  wafted  up 
again  ;  then  perhaps  it  would  scud  away  and 
sport  along  a  bank  of  the  blue  vapor  piled 
in  the  lower  air.  No  possible  genius  of  the 
pencil  could  create  that  combined  witchery  of 
form,  color  and  movement,  on  the  canvass  ; 
yet  it  soars  above  the  poor  man's  house  as 
well  as  the  rich  man's,  and  might  equally  amuse 
the  children  of  both,  and  be  a  sweetly  re- 
membered pastime  of  early  years,  and  withal 
be  pleasantly  renewed  to  a  scenic  taste  ever 
afterward  in  life.  ■■■ 


CHAPTER  VII. 


ROCKS  AND  CLIFFS. 


"  Stop,  stop  !  Let  that  rock  alone." 
"  It  is  a  little  feature  on  the   landscape's  face  which 
Gives  it  expression." 

Wordsworth. 

Rocks  are  striking  features  of  landscape, 
particularly  in  New  England,  yet  how  little  are 
they  thought  of,  except  hy  a  few<)  in  respect  to 
the  interest  of  scenery.  By  the  grown-up  they 
are  mostly  regarded  as  useful  materials  for 
walls,  or  as  incumbrances  and  impediments, 
wished  out  of  the  way  ;  to  children,  they  are 
play's  ambition-pinnacles,  on  which  to  climb 
high  and  stand  up  tall,  or  from  which  to  leap 
boldly  down  in  the  friskiness  of  animal  spirits, 
as  the  lambs  do  in  the  pastures.  True,  rocks 
are  an  impediment  to  tillage,  and  let  them  be 
got  out  of  the  way.    They  are  good  for  fences, 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  37 

and  let  fences  be  made  of  them,  but  this  is  no 
reason  why  their  picturesqiieness,  their  beauty 
and  grandeur,  should  not  be  observed  and  en- 
joyed. I  know  sonne  rocks  that  are  much  in 
the  way,  and  it  might. cost  a  month,  take  a  hfe 
through,  for  the  shoes  and  wheels  of  business 
to  go  round  them,  and  if  split  up  would  under- 
pin a  meeting  house  or  a  market,  yet  we  would 
not  remove  them  any  more  than  we  would  pull 
a  star  from  the  sky,  on  account  of  their  per- 
petual blessing  to  the  eye  of  taste. 

Now  let  the  perception  be  trained  to  enjoy 
these  prominences  of  the  ground.  For  this 
purpose  any  rock  of  the  nearest  field  may  af- 
ford the  primary  lesson.  Let  the  different  and 
peculiar  dimensions,  shapes  and  colors,  be  no- 
ticed. There  are  the  little  picturings  of  moss, 
the  stripe  caused  by  some  diversity  of  the  or- 
iginal elements,  or  the  fissure  which,  though 
small,  allures  the  eye  by  a  sort  of  mystery  in 
its  depth  and  shadow.  These  trifling  circum- 
stances might  be  made  interesting  at  least  to 
the  child  whose  taste  for  things  of  the  kind  has 
not  been  crushed  and  annihilated  by  the  great 
and  the  grand  of  broader  experience.  A  mi- 
4 


33  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

nute  observation  of  these  insignificant  pecu- 
liarities will  discipline  the  perceptions  to  be 
minutely  observant  when  going  out  into  wide 
and  multiplex  nature,  where  otherwise  atten- 
tion might  be  confounded  and  lost  in  a  roving, 
bewildered  gaze.  Besides,  we  apprehend  that 
an  observer  thus  disciplined  would  be  more 
likely  to  entertain  the  feeling  of  sublimity  and 
wondering  romance,  at  the  subsequent  specta- 
cle of  mighty  gorges,  crags  and  pinnacles,  so 
vastly  exceeding  the  diminutive  things  to  which 
interest  had  previously  been  limited. 

We  would  form  a  sort  of  friendly  interest 
in  rocks;  let  the  heart  grow  to  them,  as  it  were, 
in  consequence  of  pleasant  remembrances. 
An  anecdote  will  somewhat  illustrate  our  mean- 
ing. A  friend  informed  us  that  when  in  Eu- 
rope, he  visited  the  celebrated  Wordsworth. 
The  poet  took  him  round  his  grounds,  show- 
ing him  the  points  of  engaging  scenery  with 
poetic  rapture  and  patriotic  pride.  While 
walking  in  the  garden  some  laborers  there  were 
about  prying  up,  for  removal,  a  rock  in  a  gras- 
sy corner — an  ordinary  rock,  which  stuck  out 
from   its  bed  with  a  perpendicular  and  grey 


WITH     WORD-PAINTIxNGS.  39 

mossy  face.  "  Stop,  stop,"  cried  the  owner, 
"  let  that  rock  alone."  He  then  remarked  to 
our  friend — "  I  would  not  have  that  rock  re- 
moved on  any  account.  Insignificant  as  it 
may  appear,  it  signifies  something  to  me  ;  my 
eye  has  glanced  at  it  and  gazed  on  it  for  years, 
it  is  a  little  feature  on  the  landscape's  face 
which  gives  it  expression.  It  shall  now  have 
an  appropriate  inscription  on  its  little  grey 
weather-side,  and  I  will  write  a  sonnet  to  it." 
The  patriotic  poet  spoke  with  a  fervor  about 
that  old  rock,  which  surprised  the  American. 
Now  the  poet's  rock  was  dear  to  his  heart, 
simply  from  long  familiarity.  To  this  kind  of 
interest  we  would  join  that  of  peculiar  associ- 
ations. On  a  first  visit  to  a  rock,  read  passa- 
ges from  some  favorite  book,  peruse  perhaps 
the  last  new  work  of  pure-minded  genius,  or 
be  accompanied  by  an  agreeable  friend  for  the 
sweet  of  mutual  converse  or  song  and  sympa- 
thy of  taste.  In  this  way  how  will  memory  be 
starred,  as' it  were,  with  softly  gleaming  points 
to  which  the  soul  shall  in  the  future  turn  back 
and  find  solace  from  the  darkness  of  trouble, 
or  the  chilly  and  stumbling  night  of  extreme 
age. 


40  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

One  of  the  most  interesting  fragments  of 
scenery  the  eye  scans  and  perches  on,  are  the 
chffs  in  our  hill-sides.  Many  a  home  in  our 
diversified  country  is  not  without  one  or  more 
of  these  in  vicinity.  Perhaps  they  are  set 
smoothly  and  perpendicularly  into  the  earthy 
framework,  like  a  piece  of  hammered  mason- 
ry, and  clad  with  green  and  gray  moss,  as  with 
fanciful  tapestry.  Or  they  project  roughly  and 
beetle  over,  impressing  the  feeling  of  grandeur. 
Perhaps  shrubs  shoot  out  from  crevices,  or 
bristle  at  the  top  in  fantastic  wildness,  or  trees 
tower  therefrom  in  waving  pride  at  their  pre- 
eminence. Sometimes  the  rock-show  is  of 
quite  a  clear  whiteness,  or  has  spots  or  stripes 
of  chalky  brilliancy,  charmingly  contrasting 
with  the  grassy  carpet  beneath  and  pendant 
foliage  above.  Now  let  observation  be  partic- 
ularly directed  to  such  noble  features  of  the 
landscape.  Let  us  grow  romantic  about  them 
— it  will  do  no  harm.  If  some  interesting  in- 
cident of  the  past  may  be  found  connected 
with  them,  or  with  any  other  spot  of  earth,  so 
much  the  better.  We  cannot  but  repeat  that 
on  a  pleasure-seeking  jauni  to  such  spectacles, 


WITH     WOUD-PAINTINGS.  41 

a  choice  of  company  is  truly  worth  the  seek- 
ing. One  or  two  individuals  of  tender  and 
touching  conversation,  or  the  gift  of  sweeten- 
ing song,  are  far  preferable  to  noisy,  gamboling 
numbers.  Let  all  the  feelings  be  spiritual  and 
quiet,  rather  than  animal  and  frolicsome,  espe- 
cially on  a  first  visit.  Thus  you  will  open  in 
the  soul  a  little  fountain  of  sweet  and  tender 
recollections,  which  shall  be  perennial,  and 
sprinkle  its  freshness  at  length  it  may  be  on 
withering  age. 

Indeed  we  w^ould  have  all  sorts  of  pleasing 
scenery  connected  in  the  mind  with  the  most 
agreeable  remembrances,  but  most  especially, 
the  scenery  around  dear  native  home.  We 
would  labor  sedulously  to  make  the  grounds 
there  a  sort  of  Eden-place  to  the  affections. 
Then  in  after  life,  when  parents  shall  be  laid 
in  the  dust,  and  brothers  and  sisters  scattered 
widely  away,  what  a  paradise  of  heart-hallowed 
beauty,  will  this  native  landscape  be  ! 


4* 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HILLS  AND  VALES. 

♦'  The  Hills  of  New  England 

How  nobly  they  rise, 
In  beauty  or  wildness 

To  blend  with  the  skies  ! 
Tlieir  green  slopes,  their  grey  rocks, 

Their  plumage  of  trees, 
New  England,  my  country, 

I  love  thee  for  these  ! 

"  Th;^  Vales  of  New  England 

That  cradle  her  streams; 
All  greenness  and  glimmer, 

Like  landscapes  in  dreams; 
Their  rich  laps  for  labor. 

Their  bosoms  for  ease, 
New  England,  my  country, 

I  love  thee  for  these  !" 

Old  Scrap  Book. 

The  Hills  and  Vales  !   the  very  words  have 
a  charm,  embalmed  as  they  are  in   the  sweet 


THE   SCENLKY-SHDWER.  43 

essence  of  rural  poetry  shed  all  alon:;  tl  e 
course  of  time.  How  infinitely  diversified 
their  appeara  ices;  countless,  countless  shapes, 
as  if  the  firgers  of  Nature  had  played  over  her 
continents  in  sportive  invention,  configuring  the 
surface.  There  are  broad  heaving  swells  with 
conforming  platters  of  land  between  ;  long 
ridges  lifting  more  suddenly,  alternating  with 
long  gouges  below  ;  and  the  more  precipitous 
heights  of  all  sorts  of  figures,  looking  down  in- 
to dells  of  novelty  equally  diverse.  The  pro- 
fessed scenery-seer  we  need  not  advise,  but  to 
those  who  would  seek  his  rare  pleasure,  we 
would  say,  carefully  contemplate  all  their  va- 
rieties of  aspect ;  con  them  like  a  lesson  in  a 
book.  It  is  remarkable  how  the  organ  of 
form  will  strengthen  and  sharpen  to  its  ofiice. 
It  will  come  to  detect  each  one  of  all  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  outlines.  Figure  is  its  sole  sub- 
ject and  enjoyment,  and  it  will  feast  on  the 
beauty  of  curves,  with  the  relish  of  angles. 
There  are  sizes,  distances  and  relative  posi- 
tions, for  the  note  of  other  faculties,  giving  to 
each  appropriate  gratification. 

There  is  another  study  in  close  connection, 


44  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

it  is  the  conforming  sky.  From  some  nether 
stand  among  many  liills,  gaze  this  way  and 
that,  over  and  around,  and  how  the  azure  dome 
is  bordered  at  the  base  with  jagged  cuts,  an- 
gled notches,  quick-heaving  arches,  or  long 
narrow  scoops  according  as  the  earth  confi- 
gures its  own  contour.  Some  relations  of 
the  land  to  the  horizon,  present  most  exquisite 
specimens  of  the  picturesque.  From  one  ex- 
tremity of  a  long  deep  valley  peer  away 
through  to  the  other.  A  portion  of  the  heav- 
en is  close  down  in  there,  like  a  sapphire  wall, 
and  it  seems  as  if  you  might  go  and  place  your 
hand  against  it,  or  look  through  the  crystal 
azure  into  mysteries  beyond. 

Color  will  of  course  mingle  with  and  array 
the  charms  of  form  and  proportion,  but  as  we 
treat  of  it  otherwhere,  we  omit  it  in  this  con- 
nection. As  this  outline  of  the  hills  and  vales 
meets  the  eye  of  the  reader,  his  fancy  will  nat- 
urally clothe  them  in  all  their  necessary  varie- 
ty of  hues. 

We  spoke  of  the  growth  and  pleasure  of 
the  mere  perceptive  faculties  amid  such  inter- 
esting presentments  of  their  specific  objects. 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  45 

But  there  is  above,  and  reigning  over  these, 
another  power  to  which  these  are  the  hand- 
maids. Ideahty,  or  tlie  intense  feeling  of  the 
beautiful,  and  the  exulting  glow  at  its  posses- 
sion. How  does  it  open  and  open,  amid  such 
scenes,  for  streams  of  beauty  to  glide  in,  as 
from  many  fountains  tended  by  its  servitors  at 
the  eye.  But  over  all  these  there  is  another 
sentin.ent,  Religion,  to  which  Ideality  in  duty 
should  minister,  sending  up  its  joys  thereto, 
beautifying  holiness.  He  who  worships  not 
from  this  fane  of  hill  and  vale,  receives  not 
their  charm  into  his  highest,  happiest  sense, 
and  he  knows  not  what  influence  descends  from 
the  Worshipped  and  All-beautiful,  to  invest 
and  sanctify  the  scene  with  a  still  richer  love- 
liness. 

We  would  now  call  attention  to  a  few  par- 
ticular localities.  There  is  a  peculiar  beauty 
about  some  of  the  hills  of  INew  England, 
which  we  Tea;  aie  by  many  of  its  in!i;ibi- 
tants  hardly  noticed.  We  refer  to  their 
oval  forms.  Plow  gracefully  they  round 
up  and  curve  i.ito  the  sky.  Tuere  are 
a  hundred,    or  indeed  a  thcusand  eminences 


46  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

of  this  shape,  in  the  neighborhoods  of  the 
Monadnock  and  the  Wachusett  Mountains. 
We  will  try  to  paint  a  scene  embracing 
the  latter.  The  Wachusett  at  twilight,  and 
at  other  times  in  certain  states  of  weather,  is  a 
very  queen  of  mountain  beauty,  rearing  its 
round,  dark,  blue  summit  against  the  peculiar 
sky.  As  the  trav^eller  crinkles  among  the  hills 
below,  it  exhibits  various  charming  aspects, 
and  indeed  seems  alive  and  in  motion,  dancing 
as  it  were,  to  exhibit  its  graces,  "^riiere  is  one 
playful  illusion  with  which  we  have  been  often 
amused  when  in  that  part  of  the  country.  In 
ascending  a  hill  in  an  angular  direction,  we 
would  catch  a  first  glimpse  of  the  mountain, 
just  a  blue  rim  projecting  beyond  the  green  of 
the  intervening  hill.  Rising  higher  the  rim 
would  broaden,  or  rather  the  body  of  the 
round  mountain  would  seem  to  roll  out  more 
and  more  into  sight  ;  the  hill  apparently  wheel- 
in2;  one  way  and  the  mountain   another,  as  if 


'to 


turning  on  an  axis  like  machinery,  by  some  in- 
visible agency.  It  seemed  to  fancy  that  earth 
below  were  mimicking  the  dance  of  the 
spheres  above,  with  a  soft  music  unheard  by 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  47 

mortal  ears.  Would  not  childhood,  would  not 
any  one  find  recreation  in  this  spectacle,  en- 
joying and  sympathizing  with  the  sportiveness 
of  Nature. 

We  never  travel  the  old  winding  roads  in 
the  vicinity  of  Boston  without  the  ever  renew- 
ed pleasure  of  gazing  upon  the  oval  hills.  We 
owe  a  tribute  to  these  and  all  the  scenery 
around.  It  has  been  our  study  and  enchant- 
ment for  years. 

What  vallies  too,  what  water  sheets  !  What 
diverse  sprinkles  and  clusters  and  lines  of  ar- 
chitecture, peeping  from  amid  gardens  or 
gleaming  under  tree-rows  !  Altogether,  it  is 
a  show  that  the  arid  South,  and  even  the  mag- 
nificent W^est,  might  come  over,  just  to  see.  It 
is  the  very  poetry  of  landscape,  and  in  spite 
of  us  its  spirit  and  imagery  will,  but  O  how 
faintly,  run  verse-like  along  our  page. 

Kind  City  !     Can  thy  travelled  son  tell  where 
Lie  sweeter  scenes  than  thy  environs  are  ? 
Does  e'er  his  soul  so  leap  from  self  away 
As  when  they  greet  him  homeward  from  thy  bay  ? 
The  oval  hills,  the  wandering  vales  between, 
Groves,  cliffs  and  ways,  with  glimpse  of  watery  sheen, 
And  cultures  carpet,  rich  as  wealth  can  weave, 
Tinged  with  all  dyes  that  shower  and  sun-beam  leave; 


48  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

Elysian  landscapes  round  thy  thousands  flung, 

Which,  Albion  ov/ning,  Genius  would  have  sung. 

Let  Fashion  forth  then,  Toil  full  ofi  depart 

To  stvdy  these,  yea,  get  them  all  by  heart. 

'Tis  Nature's  Jiihen(Bum,  full  and  free, 

Its  walls  the  hills,  the  nneeting  sky  and  sea. 

At  morn  the  Zephyr,  Ocean  breeze  at  even, 

Brush  o'er  and  air  these  penciilings  of  Heaven. 

Should  seraph  Beauty  beckon  thetn  to  roam, 

God's  stronger  servant,  Health,  shall  bear  them  home. 

Remembrance  copies;  Taste,  for  aye, shall  find 

Those  distant  scenes  hung  round  the  halls  of  mind. 

Send  forth  thy  yoor^  of  charities  thou  Queen  I 

And  grace  their  souls  as  they  have  never  been. 

Thy  teachers  with  them — learned  of  their  Lord, 

To  show  it)  nature  lines  of  sacred  Word. 

Command  thy  merchant  princes,  large  to  give, 

That  lowly  life  may  really  come  to  live, 

O,  not  "  by  bread  alone,"  want's  wrested  good, 

But  all  the  spirit's  growth  can  ask  for  food  ; 

Live  in  all  beauty,  eye  or  thought  can  find; 

Live  conscious  man,  mid  lordliest  mankind; 

But  more  than  all,  live  in  sweet,  grateful  love 

To  those  who  lifted  them,  themselves  above  ; 

To  Him,  who  clad  and  sent  with  golden  wing 

Men,  angel-like,  "  these  litile  ones  "  to  bring, 

And  fold  them  in  their  pinions  at  His  feet 

Where  rich  and  poor  should  all  together  meet. 

Do  thus,  dear  City— noblest  of  the  North  — 

Of  all  the  land,  e  en  now,  for  life's  best  worth  ! 

Do  thus,  and  then,  thy  populous  robe  all  white, 

With  virtues  gemmed,  God's  glory  for  the  light. 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS,  49 

Thy  presence  o'er  a  continent  shall  sliine, 

Yea,  charm  the  poor,  proud  South  to  seek  thy  shrine, 

In  wisdom's  meekness  then  to  liaste  away, 

To  raise  her  darkened  realms  to  brighter  day; 

Convinced  of  equal  freedom's  worth— the  good 

Of  other  chains — soft  links  of  brotherhood — 

Of  wealth  from  toil  at  thought;  of  whipless  awe, 

Enrobed  in  love,  but  throned  upon  the  law. 

Erst  Queen  of  Learning!   take  a  loftier  name, 

The  Era  calls  with  its  new  tongue  of  flame  ; 

A  country's  Prophet — lift  thy  baptized  brow, 

Thy  mission  prove,  and  do  the  migiity — now  ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TREES. 

"  Bravely  tliy  old  arms  fling 
Their  countless  pennons  to  the  fields  of  air, 

And  like  a  sylvan  king 
Their  panoply  of  green  still  proudly  wear. 

When  at  the  twilight  hour 
Plays  through  the  tressil  crown  the  sun's  last  gleam, 

Under  thy  ancient  bower 
The  school-boy  comes  to  sport,  the  bard  to  dream." 

H.    T.    TUCKERMAN. 

We  now  pay  admiring  regard  to  the  lofty 
naonarchs  of  the  vegetable  realm.  Indeed 
they  not  only  reign  over  the  humble  herbage 
and  bush  at  their  feet,  but  they  hold  a  sort  of 
lordship  over  the  whole  scenic  earth.  They 
stand  above  the  water,  sheltering  its  repose, 
or  hold  it  in  review  as  with  purling  music  it 
moves  on  its  train.      They  protect  the  mea- 


THE    SCEXERY-SHOWER.  51 

dows  ;  tliey  hold  court  in  the  valhes  ;  they 
display  upon  the  hills  ;  they  throne  themselves 
on  the  [nountains;  and  look  down  on  the  sub- 
ject lands.  We  have  spoken  indeed  practi- 
cally, yet  without  a  figure  we  can  almost  say 
that  we  ourselves  do  a  real  homage  to  the 
trees. 

But  we  must  portray  them  more  particularly 
as  they  appear  in  their  princely  bearing  and 
attire.  Each  species  has  characteristic  traits 
of  appearance,  and  if  we  may  so  speak, 
costume,  features,  and  complexion  of  its  own. 
Wliat  gracefulness  of  the  locust  and  willow  ; 
what  column-like  symmetry  and  stateliness  of 
the  maple  ;  what  nobleness  of  the  strong 
armed  oak  ;  what  arching  grandeur  of  the 
elm  ;  then  what  varied  magnificence  of  the 
great  continuous  forest. 

How  many  different  hues  the  practised 
eye  may  detect  in  the  common  mantle  of  ver- 
dure. Here  is  the  deep  evergreen,  fir  or 
hemlock,  set  in  among  the  beech,  maple,  or 
birch,  or  among  several  of  the  kinds  together. 
How  tastefully  the  darker  and  the  lighter 
greens  internotch,  rapturing  the  eye  with  their 


52  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

thickly  intermingling,  yet  clearly  contrasted 
hues.  Take  your  stand  on  a  height  and  gaze 
down  into  some  bosomed  valley,  thickly  stud- 
ded with  trees  ;  maples  for  instance.  Each 
one  rounds  up  its  top  with  a  separate  sw^eJl. 
The  eye  is  allured  ;  and  leaping  down,  it  swims 
as  it  were  in  a  sea  of  verdurous  billows. 

Another  appearance  of  a  wood  is  the  shade 
it  casts  upon  a  bordering  field  or  pasture, 
richly  deepening  its  green.  Stand  outside, 
in  the  clear  open  ligbt,  and  gaze  upon  the 
darksomeness  that  lies  away  under  the  um- 
brageous arches,  and  you  might  fancy  a  body 
of  night  left  there  to  slumber,  guarded  by  a 
file  of  out-skirting  trees  to  protect  from  the 
incursions  of  the  surrounding  day. 

A  pleasant  spectacle  in  the  country  is  the 
fruit  orchard,  with  its  carpet  of  herbage  be- 
neath. At  least  we  know  of  one  who  in  very 
childhood  gazed  with  ever  fresh  delight  on  so 
ordinary  a  scene.  'I'here  were  the  rows  of 
apple  trees,  wi.h  branches  so  long,  and  foliage 
so  thick,  as  to  cast  the  intervening  grass  al- 
most entirely  into  shade.  The  eye  from  the 
house-window  would  run  along  from  this  end 


WITH     WORD-PAINTINGS. 


to  that  of  one  of  the  vistas,  and  back  again, 
iben  rest  upon  the  leaf-shadowed  verdure, 
anon  start  to  and  fro  again,  as  if  at  a  sort  of 
gambol  witb  its  favorite  hue. 

It  may  be  that  the  reader  will  not  sympa- 
thize with  us  in  the  pleasure  afforded  by  these 
common  aspects  of  nature.  If  so,  we  would 
enquire  if  they  would  not  please  even  him 
when  laid  in  accurate  picture  by  a  genius  of 
the  pencil  ?  Why  then  shall  the  Infinite 
Artist  paint  bis  perfect  originals  and  the 
eye  not  see,  the  taste  not  admire  ? 

But  we  have  one  more  instance  of  tree- 
scenery  which  cannot  but  attract  the  dullest 
vision,  the  tamest  taste,  when  once  made 
known.  We  have  never  seen  it  mentioned  in 
print,  or  scarcely  alluded  to  in  conversation, 
and  yet  it  is  a  spectacle  as  fascinating  as  im- 
agination herself  could  invent  or  desire. 

We  refer  to  the  peculiar  aspect  of  the  tree, 
standing  between  the  eye  and  the  morning,  or 
more  especially  the  evening  twilight.  With- 
draw all  consciousness  from  other  objects,  and 
fasten  the  gaze  intently  on  the  tree  displayed 
against  the  golden,  the  purple,  or  the  crimson 
5* 


54  THE    SCENERY -SHOWER. 

of  the  sky.  Mark  how  distinctly  you  per- 
ceive the  trunk,  and  every  bough,  branch, 
twig  and  leaf —  a  perfect  pencil  drawing  seem- 
ingly upon  the  glowing,  changing  canvass  of 
evening.  Or  let  the  fancy  take  another  turn. 
The  object,  particularly  as  the  twilight  fades, 
has  a  sort  of  semi-spiritual  or  spectre-like  ap- 
pearance, as  if  Nature  were  at  a  pantomime 
of  arboreous  apparitions  for  the  entertainment 
of  Romance  at  her  most  favorite  hour.  We 
deem  ourselves  peculiarly  fortunate,  when  in 
an  evening  walk  we  can  find  a  row  of  locusts, 
elms,  or  maples,  or  any  kind  or  arrangement 
of  trees,  to  disport  the  eye  and  fancy  with, 
without  hindering  the  needed  exercise.  There 
are  few  spectacles  that  keep  us  away  from  the 
topics  of  the  study,  and  relieve  the  thought- 
worn  brain  more  efFeciiially,  than  this  daily-re- 
newing illusion  of  the  twilight. 


CHAPTER  X. 

COLORS  OF  VEGETATION. 

"  Resplendent  hues  are  ihine  I 

Triumphant  beauty  —  glorious  as  brief! 
Burdening  with  lioly  love  the  heart's  pure  shrine, 

Till  tears  afford  relief. 
When  my  last  hours  are  come, 

Great  God  !  ere  yet  life's  span  shall  all  be  filled, 
And  these  warm  lips  in  death  be  ever  dumb, 

This  beating  heart  be  stilled, 
Batlie  Thou  in  hues  as  blessed  — 

Let  gleams  of  heaven  about  my  spirit  play  ! 
So  shall  my  soul  to  its  eternal  rest 

In  glory  pass  away  !" 

Wm.  J.  Pabodie. 

Why  has  the  Creator  painted  our  world 
with  such  infinite  diversity,  why  so  exquisitely 
spun  the  nerves  of  perception,  if  the  one  was 
not  intended  to  run  along  the  other  with  an 
infinite  diversity  of  visual  pleasure  to  the 
soul  ? 


56  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

We  apprehend  that  immeasurably  more 
might  be  enjoyed  from  the  changing  colors  of 
vegetative  nature  were  there  due  discipline. 
Let  us  briefly  present  a  few  lessons  for  prac- 
tice. 

How  many  distinct  hues  of  verdure  in  ver- 
nal vegetation.  What  numerous  tints  of  the 
same  color  not  only,  but  numberless  different 
dyes,  the  various  species  of  vegetables  assume, 
in  all  their  changes  from  their  first  tender 
green  of  spring  to  the  last  prevailing  brown- 
ness  of  autumn.  Now  let  children  be  trained, 
let  others  train  themselves,  curiously  to  ob- 
serve all  these  variegations  from  the  shifting 
year.  Discriminate  each  separate  kind  of 
grain  by  its  hue.  Notice  also  the  alterations 
as  the  crop  advances  toward  the  harvest. 
Had  we  space  we  might  point  out  noticeable 
traits  in  each  species.  As  a  single  illustration, 
embracing  form  as  well  as  color,  does  one  to 
a  thousand  observe  the  peculiar  early  beauty 
and  later  magnificence  of  that  common  spec- 
tacle, a  field  of  Indian  corn  ?  There  are  the 
leaves  at  their  broadest  expansion  toward  the 
stalk,  tapering  off  to  their  utmost  elongation  ; 


WITH    WORD-PAINTl.NGS.  57 

and  these  all  waving  and  fluttering  in  the 
breeze  like  so  many  verdant  and  pointed 
streamers.  Then  it  lifts  in  tasselled  stateli- 
ness,  as  if  in  plumy  pride  at  the  golden  riches 
beneath. 

There  are  the  fields  of  the  smaller  grains. 
How  graceful  the  nodding  in  the  gentle  breeze, 
in  color,  form  and  motion,  minutely,  muliitudi- 
nously  picturesque.  While  yet  retaining  their 
greenness,  and  in  a  bright  day  under  a  stronger 
wind,  they  seem  to  flow  away  in  waves  of  sil- 
vered emerald.  But  in  full  and  heavier  ripe- 
ness, they  roll  magnificently  along  in  billowy 
gold.  The  most  enchanting  view,  for  variety, 
richness,  and  spacious  expanses  of  vegetable 
coloring,  is  a  well  cultured  farm  just  before 
the  earliest  reaping.  It  would  seem  that  the 
sun  had  mustered  his  hues  to  a  gorgeous  gala, 
in  welcome  to  the  gatherers  commencing  their 
long  train  of  harvests.  Come  out,  ye  stived 
inhabitants  of  the  hot  city,  for  rural  walk  or 
ride  ;  especially,  ascend  some  neighboring 
eminence,  and  be  enchanted.  Pause  travel- 
lers on  the  uplands  overlooking  the  Connecti- 
cut river  meadows.     The  sight  will  leap  down 


5S 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 


upon  those  diverse,  alternating  stripes  of  lux- 
uriance, and  acknowledge  the  richest  paradise 
it  can  find  between  the  bloomy  beautiful- 
ness  of  Spring  and  the  foliage  glories  of 
Autumn. 

The  honors  just  mentioned  as  belonging  to 
the  tw^o  opposite  seasons  we  scarce  dare 
describe.  Many  geniuses  have  painted  their 
perfections  with  an  appropriate  perfectness 
of  language,  which  needs  must  forestall 
what  w'ould  be  here  but  a  poor  dappling  of 
words. 

Suffice  it  to  say  of  the  blossomed  Spring, 
it  is  the  queenly  infancy  of  the  year  at  the 
utmost  exuberance  of  joyousness  and  gala. 
Soils,  heats,  waters,  airs,  lights,  have  all 
conspired  in  preparation,  and  still  tend  around 
for  nurture,  attire  and  embellishment.  Odors 
minister  incense,  breezes  fan  freshness  ;  the 
heavenly  canopy  varies  with  shadowy  blue  and 
the  clearest  deeps  of  azure  ;  or  it  is  decora- 
led  with  lustrous  banner- folds  of  cloud,  which 
unfurling,  shake  down  gems  that  perchance 
drop  through  rainbows,  and  then  melt  for  the 
bathing  of  the  favorite.      The  brooding   pa- 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  59 

rentage  of  feathered  life  carols  gratulation. 
The  streams  purl,  the  foliage  whispers  in 
symphony.  Human  infancy  laughs  and  claps 
its  hands,  and  leans  in  embrace  on  the  flowery 
bosom  of  its  own  sweet,  tenderly-beautiful 
emblem.  The  heart  of  maturer  man  glows, 
his  face  brightens  in  sympathy.  The  pa- 
geant passes,  and  the  year  stands  up  in  the 
youthful  staiellness  of  summer. 

The  grander  pomp  of  the  later  season,  fin- 
ishing into  perfect  ripeness,  or  resting  from  its 
fruitful  energies  and  rejoicing  over  its  abun- 
dance, we  cannot  indeed  portray.  We  will 
just  dare  an  outline  and  lift  away  our  inade- 
quate pen.  There  is  serene  September, 
after  reviving  rains  spreading  a  carpet  of  fresh- 
ened green.  It  is  as  if  there  had  fallen  from 
the  skies  a  carpet  of  summer  verdure  on 
which  Autumn  might  drop  its  fruitage  from  its 
own  yet  green  foliage.  In  these  orchard- 
gifts,  what  richness,  what  variety  of  hues. 
It  would  seem  that  the  tints  of  Spring  had 
arisen  from  the  perished  blooms,  and  climbed 
into    the   branches  and   stolen  over  the  pro- 


60  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

ducts,  anticipating  the  gust  of  palate  by  a  feast 
to  the  eye. 

But  now  comes  the  great,  final  display  of 
orchard,  grove,  and  forest  pride.  Go  out  now 
into  nature  and  let  the  vision  run  wild.  Go 
up  miles  from  the  duller  sea-lands  among  the 
hills.  Here  are  the  nobler  maple-woods  in 
great  congregation  with  their  kindred  kings  of 
vegetation,  but  outvying  all.  The  purple, 
crimson,  orange,  and  gold  of  the  morning  ;  the 
bright,  the  deepening,  and  darkening  changes 
of  evening  seem  broken  into  fragments,  together 
with  rainbows  unravelled,  and  all  flung  abroad 
in  dazzling  vestures,  and  these  laced  and 
spangled  with  the  silver  glitter  of  waters. 
Glance  through  the  vallies,  gaze  up  the  hill- 
sides ;  stand  upon  the  highest  eminences  and 
cast  the  sight  down,  spread  it  far  away  wide  ; 
beauty,  magnificence,  glory  !  the  eye's  largest 
and  most  ecstatic  range  in  the  luxury  of 
colors.  Turn  upward  in  adoring  gratitude 
to  him  who  holds  in  his  hand  the  pencilling 
sun,  and  paints  this  and  all  scenes  for  thee  ; 
who  also  transfers  his  pictures  to  the  vast  halls 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  61 

of  thy  memory  to  be  fresh   for   recurrence 
through  immortal  ages.     O  lose  thyself 

'*  in  Him  in  Liglit  Ineffable  ! 
Come  then,  expressive  silence,  muse  his  praise  !  " 


CHAPTER  XL 

WATERS. 

"  From  deep  mysterious  wanderings,  your  springs 
Break  bubbling  into  beauty;  where  they  lie 
In  infant  Jielplessness  awhile,  but  soon 
Gathering  in  liny  brooks,  they  gambol  down 
The  steep  sides  of  the  mountains,  laughing,  shouting, 
Teasing  the  wild  flowers,  and  at  every  turn 
Meeting  new  playmates  still  to  swell  their  ranks; 
Which  with  the  rich  increase  resistless  grown, 
Shed  foam  and  thunder,  that  the  echoing  wood 
Rings  with  the  boisterous  glee  ;  while  o'er  their  heads, 
Catching  their  spirit  blithe,  young  rainbows  sport, 
The  frolic  children  of  the  wanton  sun." 

Thomas  Wakd. 

Water  makes  a  large  portion  of  the  world's 
scenery.  In  its  various  aspects  of  repose  and 
motion  it  is  beautiful  or  magnificent.  In  its 
figured  courses  amid  the  diversities  of  land, 
it   is   the  animate  picturesque,  running  away 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER.  63 

with   the  eye,   delightfully  lost  in   wandering 
captivity. 

We  will  begin  with  the  most  insignificant 
water-traits.  They  will  be  of  use  to  the 
teacher,  training  the  child  to  profitable  obser- 
vation. And  why  shall  not  the  adult  self- 
cuhurist  also  educate  himself  in  these  primary 
lessons  of  lovely  minutiae.  Let  evey  one 
gaze  on  the  rill,  the  brook,  or  the  river, 
till  he  shall  be  familiar  with  every  character- 
istic, and  learn  to  love  the  gamesome  runner, 
as  if  it  were  a  living  acquaintance  and  had  a 
responding  spirit.  Observe  every  short  turn 
or  larger  graceful  sweep.  Pause  over  the 
little  eddy  or  whirl  produced  by  projecting 
bank  or  intervening  rock,  and  look  steadily  till 
the  eye  gets  lost  in  the  little  maze  of  ripples. 
A  considerable  water-fall  is  always  an  attrac- 
tion. But  even  in  the  tiny  rill  we  would 
notice  the  little  tumult  of  waters  sfursilins;  over 
the  rocks,  it  is  at  least  a  discipline  to  the 
sight.  Perhaps  there  is  a  slight  cascade 
caused  by  a  trifling  stone.  Or  a  chance-lodged 
chip  or  leaf  may  form  a  brief  space  of  sheeted 
water,  smooth  and  transparent  as  glass,   and 


64  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

a  very  crystal,  with  the  marvel  of  all  its  parti- 
cles in  motion. 

Then  there  is  the  bason  into  which  a  pre- 
cipitous rivulet  may  fall  and  stilly  linger. 
Here  the  eye  gazes  down  into  the  dusky 
depth  until  stopped  by  an  impenetrable  black- 
ness, into  the  mystery  of  which  it  would  pen- 
etrate if  it  could.  Or  there  may  be  a  bright 
sandy  bottom,  so  invitingly  clear  that  it  would 
almost  seem  pleasant  to  leap  in  and  lie  as  in  a 
bed  beneath  the  glassy  sheet.  Sometimes 
such  grot  of  the  stream  is  so  underlaid  and 
margined  with  moss,  fringed  with  herbage 
and  overhung  with  tree-foliage,  that  the  whole 
water  is  a  deep  delicious  green.  A  poet 
might  fancy  the  silvery  strips,  drops  and 
sprinkles  of  the  broken  mass  above,  had  been 
fused  together  again  and  transmuted  into  em- 
erald by  alchymy  of  haunting  Naiad.  There 
is  a  spectacle  of  the  sort  in  the  Franconia 
Notch  at  the  White  Mountains,  with  which 
the  author  of  Childe  Harold,  had  he  seen, 
would  have  gemmed  his  lay,  attracting  the 
travelling  world  to  linger  over  its  then  classic 
loveliness. 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  05 

The  figure  of  a  stream,  as  it  adjusts  itself 
to  the  obstacles  of  its  course,  has  a  peculiar 
charm.  It  seems  to  feel  its  way  along  with  a 
cunning  policy,  combining  convenience  to  it- 
self and  attractiveness  to  the  beholder,  as  it 

"  Now  glitters  in  the  sun  and  now  retires 
As  bashful,  yet  impatient  to  be  seen." 

What  grace,  what  majesty  in  the  larger  river, 
as  from  the  narrow  of  the  hills  it  comes 
widening  out  again,  sweeping  its  shining  train 
far  round  the  meadow^,  then  marching  through 
the  w^ood,  or  wheeling  round  the  promontory, 
till  fancy  alone  can  follow  the  stately  proces- 
sion. 

Then  there  are  the  thousand  ponds,  or 
lakes,  as  called  in  Europe,  embosomed  in  our 
country.  Holding  the  vision  to  an  expan- 
sive unity  of  spectacle,  silvering  their  blue 
under  the  sunshine,  or  darkening  it  under  the 
cloud,  they  are  the  watery  magnificent.  The 
eye  of  taste  owns  them  all.  They  are  the 
fee  simple  of  all  the  eyes  in  the  nation,  if  they 
will  but  grasp  and  hold  them  with  a  loving 
sight. 

6* 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SCENERY  AROUND  WATER. 

"The  visible  scene 
Would  enter  unawares  into  his  mind 
With  all  its  solemn  imagery,  its  rocks, 
Its  woods,  and  that  uncertain  heaven  received 
Into  the  bosom  of  the  steady  lake." 

Wordsworth. 

The  scenery  around  water,  though  before 
indirectly  included,  now  claims  more  particu- 
lar mention.  It  is  a  sort  of  costume  to  the 
liquid,  changeable,  and  more  life-like  spectacle, 
imparting  adornment  and  receiving  interest, 
and  as  it  were  life  in  return. 

There  are  the  grassy  declivity  and  pebbly 
margin  ;  the  jutting  rocks,  or  long  smooth 
side    of  a    cliff.      There  are   the    trees    and 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER,  67 

shrubs  leaning  against  or  standing  upon  these 
varieties  of  shore,  concealing  and  revealing 
ihem  by  turns,  and  contrasting  their  green 
umbrage  with  the  shaded  blue  of  the  water. 
These  gazed  at  from  the  opposite  side  of  a 
considerable  expanse,  form  a  picture  which 
leisure  might  travel  quite  a  distance  to  see 
and  be  made  oblivious  of  care. 

How  charming,  viewed  at  a  little  distance, 
are  some  of  the  capes  which  thrust  themselves 
into  the  inland  pond  or  some  of  our  ocean 
bays  and  creeks.  How  softly  the  eye  slips 
from  the  fresher  green  of  the  moister  points 
and  meets  the  water  that  sleeps,  or  the  wave- 
lets that  waken  and  glitter  upon  the  margin. 
Then  in  another  place  is  seen  the  white  beach 
rounding  in  under  the  grassy  or  bushy  shore, 
like  a  bright  rim  curiously  inlaid  between  the 
azure  water  and  the  verdant  land. 

Circumadjacent  objects  reflected  in  the 
crystal  element  below  are  an  absolute  en- 
chantment. They  seem  an  earthly  embroi- 
dery to  another  firmanent,  which  hollows  its 
vast  concave  down,  down  to  nethermost  gran- 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 


deiir.  A  Parnassian  ancient  might  have 
fancied  it  a  cerulean  theatre,  where  his  water- 
nymphs  could  game  in  chariots  of  cloud 
around  the  golden  goal  of  a  sun. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


AN  ILLUSION. 


"  Gentle  Nature  plays  her  part 

T^  itli  ever-varying  wiles, 
And  transient  feignings  with  plain  truth. 

So  well  she  reconciles, 
That  those  fond  idlers  most  are  pleased 

Whom  oftenest  she  beguiles." 

WORDSWOKTH. 

There  is  a  spectacle  with  which  one  may 
always  be  amused  in  travelling,  and  in  which 
childhood  certainly  might  find  curious  sport  to 
its  frolicsome  eye.  As  we  have  never  seen  it 
even  mentioned,  we  will  enliven  our  page 
by  its  description.  It  is  the  apparent  motion 
of  objects  on  the  wayside  as  one  passes  rap- 
idly along.  Here  is  combined  the  graceful- 
ness of  motion  with  picturesque  beauty.  In- 
deed it  seems  as  if  inanimate  nature  were  im- 


70  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

bued  with  life  and  acting  the  picturesque  and 
beautiful  as  on  a  theatre. 

Any  mode  of  travelling  creates  the  scene, 
but  that  by  steam-car  makes  it  the  most  perfect 
from  the  velocity.  We  cannot  better  illustrate 
than  by  describing  the  spectacle  to  be  witness- 
ed on  the  rail-road  between  Boston  and  Salem. 
Suppose  yourself  seated  at  the  window  on  the 
right  hand  side  and  going  Eastward.  The 
grounds,  fences,  and  trees  nearest,  seem  to 
run  past  as  if  they  had  life  like  animals,  or 
soul  of  fire  and  breath  of  vapor,  as  the  train  has, 
and  are  speeding  to  the  city  you  have  left. 
The 'hills  and  banks  along  the  bay-shore  ap- 
pear to  stand  still,  or  to  have  a  vacillating 
movement,  as  if  doubtful  which  way  to  go,  or 
whether  they  shall  go  or  stay.  But  the  ob- 
jects at  a  still  greater  distance,  the  round, 
heaving  islands,  and  the  towering  vessels  in 
sail-swelled  pomp,  are  proceeding  with  you, 
not  apparently  at  the  same  rapid  rate,  but  with 
a  stately  glide,  such  as  might  befit  things  of 
their  magnitude.  Now  and  then  these  distant 
travellers  will  be  hidden  from  view  by  an  in- 
tervening high  ground,  anon  they  slide  grace- 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGri.  71 

fully  out  from  behind,  keeping  opposite  to  your 
elbow,  as  if  they  had  agreed  to  companion- 
ship and  were  bound  to  keep  on. 

On  approaching  Salem  you  shoot  in  among 
romantic  cliffs,  soft  meadow-plats,  gleaming 
water-sheets,  scatterings  of  shrubbery,  and  no- 
ble tree  clumps  ;  here  you  have  wildness  and 
beauty  in  grotesquest  sport,  as  if  they  had 
caught  the  olden  witchery,  and  were  harmless- 
ly playing  it  out  for  the  amusement  of  passen- 
gers. 

Returning  to  Boston,  there  is  a  somewhat 
ludicrous  spectacle  on  the  northern  side.  The 
dark  cliffs  back  of  Lynn  add  to  their  pictur- 
esque charm  by  taking  up  their  march  in  long 
procession.  It  may  be  that  a  marsh  is  thickly 
peopled  with  hay-stacks  ;  [these  set  to  danc- 
ing, as  it  were,  round  a  centre  in  a  sort  of  ellip- 
tical orbit,  apparently  with  as  much  regularity 
of  time  and  interspaces  as  if  they  had  been 
trained  by  a  master  and  were  governed  by  a 
lively  music.  The  eye  is  quite  mazed  at 
such  strange  "  poetry  of  motion,"  and  the  or- 
gan of  mirtlifulness  catches  a  brief  ])astime  from 
this  jigging  of  the  hay-giants  on  the  lawn  of 
their  homestead. 


72  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 

Further  on,  the  Chelsea  Iiills  shoot  by  each 
other  with  beautiful  effect  from  their  ellpitical 
shape  and  the  peeping  of  houses  between.  It 
seems  as  if  they  were  on  rail-roads  too  ;  yet 
with  all  this  mighty  travel  making  no  noise. 

At  length  the  Charlestown  church-steeples 
walk  off  as  on  a  visit  to  the  neighboring  spires 
of  the  city.  And  the  monarch  of  Anierican 
monuments  puts  off  his  steady  sobriety  for  the 
frolic,  and  not  to  be  alone  in  his  grandeur  ;  or 
as  fancy  might  say,  he  leaves  his  hero-hallow- 
ed throne,  and  takes  Boston-ward  to  thank  the 
patriotic  ladies  that  he  was  not  left  a  dumpy 
dwarf  through  lack  of  provision  for  growth. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MOUNTAINS. 

'*  I  live  not  in  myself,  but  I  become 
Portion  of  that  around  me  ;  and  to  me 
High  mountains  are  a  feeling." 

BvRox. 

We  owe  an  especial  tribule  to  the  Moun- 
tains, and  with  the  poet's  Alp-begotten  thought 
we  begin  our  homage.  We  sympathize  en- 
tirely with  his  lofty  enthusiasm.  Of  all  earth's 
scenery  they  have  been  by  us  most  sought, 
most  loved.  In  their  changefulness  of  aspect 
they  were  the  playmates  of  our  youthful  fancy. 
For  us  they  skirled  themselves  with  the  fantas- 
tic mist,  and  wore  a  wreath  of  it  for  a  crown. 
For  us  they  caught  each  crimson  dawn,  and 
told  of  its  beauty.  For  us  they  lifted  a  foot- 
stool of  grandeur  for  the  throne  of  the  setting 
sun.     Then  they  purpled  in  the  twilight  that 


"^4  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER^ 

our  vision  might  have  wider  and  more  varied 
range  for  its  evening  pastime  of  liues. 

With  what  grand  command  they  crowned 
the  chmax  of  scenery  that  educed  our  taste 
and  charmed  our  spirit  at  native  home  ;  the 
even  meadow,  the  winding  brook,  the.  maple 
groves,  the  oval  hills,  the  over-looking  moun- 
tains. There  they  now  stand,  far-seen  friend- 
ly indicators  of  all  that  subjacent  loveliness. 
Mighty  talismans  of  memory  !  when  discern- 
ed from  any  lofty  distance,  how  we  live  over 
again  sunrises  and  sunsets,  and  many  a  blessed 
day  between  ;  many  rambles  alone,  and  some 
in  sweet  companionship  ;  alternate  labor  and 
literature,  dreamy  musings  and  keen  inquisitive 
thought.  How  reappear  the  long  reaching 
prospects  of  confiding  hope,  and  the  glittering 
ascents  of  bold  aspiration.  How  our  heart 
lifts  itself  and  thrills  with  this  magic  renewal 
of  the  past  !  But  anon  it  bends  in  serene,  sub- 
missive gratitude  to  One  who  from  above 
these  heights  climbed  by  sight  or  sought  by  the 
soul,  put  forth  a  providential  hand,  and  held 
back  and  bore  forward,  and  carried  to  and  fro 
in  devious  course,  ever  displaying  the  varied 


WITH     WORD-PAIXTINGS. 


pictures  of  his  pencil,  and  maturing  the  deh- 
cious,  innocent  taste  which  is  here  permitted 
an  humble  expression. 

Pardon,  benevolent  Reader,  the  reference 
to  dear  landscapes,  and  a  personal  experience, 
without  which  these  word-paintings  might  not 
have  been.  The  name  of  our  topic  has  been 
a  magic,  let  us  now  together  feel  the  spell. 

We  would  have  the  soul  as  early  as  possible 
stamped  with  the  impressiveness  of  mountains. 
In  the  first  place,  their  forms  are  a  study. 
There  is  the  variety  of  surface  shaping  their 
bases  ;  then  therefrom  their  ascent,  gradual  and 
smooth  with  pasture  or  thickset  wood,  or  more 
diverse  in  outline  with  round  protuberance  of 
hill  or  huge  projection  of  bluff. 

Lastly  their  summits :  these  lift  into  long  ridge 
with  more  or  less  discernible  prominences,  like 
an  enormous  rampart,  with  bastions  builded 
against  the  storms.  They  otherwise  swell 
gently  into  curve,  moulding  the  attractive  beau- 
ty of  an  arch  out  of  the  horizon.  Again  they 
heave  boldly  into  peak,  or  shoot  wildly  into 
pinnacle,  as  it  were,  notching  in  and  splitting 
open  the  sky. 


ib  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

When  several  of  these  abrupt  heights  hap- 
pen quite  closely  together  in  cluster  or  range, 
a  curious  spectacle  is  presented  by  the  sky  to 
the  distant  observer,  fancy  assisting  the  view. 
A  belt  of  the  great  firmament,  bending  majes- 
tically over  from  the  zenith,  finishes  its  descent 
earthward  with  inverted  mountain-shapes,  of 
cloudy  grey  or  azure  brigiit  ;  these  confront- 
ing the  dark  blue  earth-giants  in  grandeur- 
making  competition. 

In  travelling  in  the  vicinity  of  a  mountain  it 
is  entertainingly  noticeable  how  it  will  vary  its 
appearance,  as  the  beholder  shifts  his  relative 
position.  One  can  hardly  believe  sometimes, 
that  it  is  the  same  object,  it  is  so  unaccounta- 
bly altered.  It  seems  a  sort  of  Protean  pan- 
tomime playing  pranks  of  transformation. 

Again,  it  is  a  matter  of  interest,  how  the 
hue  of  mountains  changes,  ever  imparting  nov- 
el interest,  from  the  first  peep  of  morning  to 
the  final  shading-ofi'  at  evening  twilight. 

How  the  thick  cloudiness  of  some  days  will 
shed  down  upon  them  its  sombreness.  How 
will  the  dark  overhanging  thunder  cloud  deep- 
en their  blue  to  the  very  verge  of  blackness, 


WITH     W0RD-PAlXriNG3.  77 

impressing  the  solemn  sublime,  as  cloud  and 
mountain  seem  almost  joined  and  blended  to- 
gether in  one  dark  expanse.  We  say,  let  the 
lesson  of  the  school-room  be  left,  let  domes- 
tic labor  pause,  where  no  necessity  hurries,  to 
place  the  mind  under  such  enlivening,  or  soul- 
subduing  aspects. 

No  scenery  probably  tends  more  to  awaken 
and  ennoble  the  sentiment  of  patriotism  than 
mountains. 

Seas  make  their  magnificence  common  to 
the  separate  lands  they  expand  between.  The 
all-encompassing  ocean  gives  its  sublimity  of 
waters  to  a  world.  But  mountains — solid 
earth's  uttermost  grandeur — are  a  nation's  own. 
They  are  fastened  upon  a  country's  form  like 
a  vast  member — the  device  and  creation  of 
God.  They  bear  upon  their  sides  and  hold 
beneath  their  surfaces  its  cities  and  villages, 
yet  to  be  built,  together  with  implements  and 
ornaments  yet  to  be  wrought.  With  perpetu- 
al industry  they  spin  forth  the 

''  Streams  that  tie  her  realms  with  silver  bands." 

They  are  not  only  individualized,  each  by  its 
own  peculiar  aspect,  but  consecrated  by  a  par- 

7* 


78  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

ticLilar  name.  They  are  clad  with  local  associa- 
tions, and  mantled  all  over  and  beautified  to  the 
heart  by  a  national  interest.  When  a  neigh- 
boring inhabitant  journeys  away,  his  last  back- 
ward look,  his  first  returning  glance,  are  to 
them.  They  indicate  his  home.  Ah  !  just 
down  there  beneath,  are  his  best  loves,  and  his 
bosom  thrills  again.  The  mariner  or  other 
traveller  across  the  ocean  holds  them  in  his 
last  aching  gaze  as  long  as  he  can  ;  and 
thitherward  his  heart  aims  its  last  adieu.  On 
his  return,  how  he  labors  for  the  earliest 
glimpse  at  their  summits.  They  seem  as  soar- 
ing heralds  from  home — angels  of  the  great 
patriotic  presence,  coming  to  meet  him,  cry- 
ing "  Hitherward — O,  welcome  !" 

Mountains  are  the  final  citadel  of  national 
freedom,  founded  when  the  land  was  prepared 
above  the  seas,  as  if  freedom  should  be  es- 
teemed as  dear  as  life.  Here  is  the  last 
refuge  of  the  patriot  (ew.  And  if  these  should 
be  captured,  the  heaven-built  battlements  still 
abide  to  await  their  return.  War  w^ill  not  dig 
them  down  or  dismantle  them  of  their  ridged 
walls  and    caverned    embrasures.     Here   the 


WITH     WORD-PAINTINGS.  /U 

Genius  of  Liberty  dwells  ever  fast,  still  sound- 
ing her  trumps  of  echo,  and  waving  to  and  fro 
her  signal  banners  of  cloud.  She  never  dies. 
The  Eternal  spirit  is  her  hfe.  He  keeps  her 
high  toward  his  All-mighty  presence,  that  when 
the  exiles  shall  return,  or  a  nation  shall  break 
its  chains,  or  arise  regenerate  from  its  vices, 
or  when  a  youthful  people  shall  nobly  aspire, 
they  may  all  know  whither  to  turn  for  encour- 
agement and  blessing. 

Such  are  the  mountains  to  the  patriotic,  at 
least  to  the  classically  poetic  mind.  Go  then, 
fellow  countrymen,  and  gaze.  Stand  with 
your  children  around  you  and  teach  them  to 
look  up  to  these  ''everlasting  hills"  with  a 
reverent  love.  If  the  blue  ridges  and  peaks 
stretch  and  tower  not  within  view  of  home, 
let  an  hour  or  hours  be  spent  in  resorting  to 
spots,  where  may  be  seen  those  piles  and 
points  that  so  impress  with  grandeur,  and  a 
grandeur  too,  so  romantically  connected  with 
the  cherished  idea  of  native  land.  Yea,  go  up 
into  their  very  midst, — Fathers  with  your  fam- 
ilies— Teachers  with  your  schools,  and  hold 
intimate   communion.      But  let  all  voices   be 


80  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

hushed,  except  to  fitting  language — that  of 
meditative,  ennobling  thought.  There  study 
every  aspect  and  catch  its  picture  upon  the 
memory  ;  gorge,  glen,  cavern,  and  crevice — 
veiled  in  shadow  or  hidden  in  deeper  darkness  ; 
shivered  crag,  rocky  acclivity,  or  wooded  brow, 
and  far  bold  summit.  Be  still  and  hearken 
also — the  sigh  of  trees,  the  dash  of  waters,  the 
roar  of  winds,  the  resoundings  of  echo — it  is 
from  the  ancient  orchestra  of  the  solitudes, 
ever  awaiting  the  sublime  syinphonies  of  the 
living  heart  ! 

Thus  far  the  scenes,  the  sounds,  the  influ- 
ences below.  But  rest  not  contented  with 
these.  One  whom  the  mountain  3Iuse  and  the 
genius  of  Freedom  inspired  in  very  childhood 
thus  admonishes,  and  would  bear  you  up  on 
the  pinions  of  his  verse, — 

Thou  who  wouldst  see  the  lovely  and  the  wild, 
Mingled  in  harmony  on  Nature's  face. 
Ascend  our  rocky  mountains.     Let  thy  foot 
Fail  not  with  weariness,  for  on  their  tops 
The  beauty  and  the  mnjesty  of  earth, 
Spread  wide  beneath,  shall  make  thee  to  forget 
The  sleep  and  toilsome  way. 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  81 

We  would  have  all  our  countrymen,  if  pos- 
sible, visit  those  groups  of  grandeur  in  the 
North,  which  are  still  more  aggrandized  by  the 
names  of  illustrious  statesmen.  At  least  let 
not  any  talk  wishfully  of  the  Alps,  and  yearn 
to  catch  the  stormy  spirit  of  Byron  from  their 
avalanches,  tempests  and  peaks,  till  they  have 
held  exalted  communion  with  them. 

Suppose  a  clear  day  in  summer,  and  one  is 
on  such  ennobling,  exciting  pilgrimage.  His 
first  vision  of  the  mountains  is  at  a  far  distance. 
How  gracefully  they  run  their  smooth,  blue 
pinnacles  sharp  into  the  light  azure  sky.  On 
nearer  approach,  they  enlarge  round  about, 
they  lift  themselves  up  into  grandeur.  Fi- 
nally, stand  beneath  their  mightiest  presence, 
and  to  pious  fancy  they  seem  a  manifold  throne 
to  which  the  All-mighty  Maker  bows  the  heav- 
ens and  comes  down  to  receive  the  awed 
scene-pilgrim's  profoundest  homage. 

But  let  this  spectacle  and  its  emotions  pass. 
First,  now  those  mountain  appurtenances,  the 
two  long,  deep  defiles,  where  the  beautiful,  the 
wild,  the  grotesque  and  the  grand,  in  continu- 
ous and  mingled  arrangement  break  and  alter- 


82 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 


nate  upon  the  eye,  like  the  ever  novel  passages 
of  a  romance.  One  might  fancy  the  well- 
wrought  varying  way,  with  the  lofty  cliff-sides 
and  forest  garniture,  and  the  silver  inlay  of 
stream,  to  be  the  courtly  avenue  to  the  august 
Royalty  of  the  mountains. 

Now  ascend.  How  the  thousand  objects 
below,  rocks,  trees,  edi6ces  become  belittled. 
Bold  surfaces — the  very  hills  flatten  into  same- 
ness, and  are  lost.  You  stand  on  Mount 
Washington  !  Lo  !  the  wide,  wide  country, 
deep  below,  and  far,  far  around  ;  settled 
towns,  intervening  v/oods,  streams,  and  ponds, 
the  wild  stretch  of  forests,  darkly  green, 
and  lakes  just  gleaming  upon  the  horizon. 
Inferior  but  higli  mountains,  run  away  into 
distance,  like  a  vast  ridge  of  billows  that  had 
been  stopped  and  hardened  into  everlasting 
stability.  Away  on  the  western  horizon,  the 
Vermont  heights  range  themselves,  but  their 
loftiest  peaks  in  lov\ly  deference.  Hither- 
ward,  the  Connecticut  sends  up  its  vapory 
garlands.  Oiher  summits  do  reverence  in  blue 
distinctness,  or  misty  dimness.  A  peaked 
family  of  eminences  stand  close  around  as  in 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  83 

courtly  waiting.  Overhanging  all,  is  the  great 
domed  heaven.  Centred  amid  all, — the  be- 
holder. What  his  emotions  ?  There  comes 
up  from  below,  there  flows  in  from  around, 
there  descends  from  above,  the  grandeur  of 
expanse,  the  sublimity  of  vastness. 

It  is  at  ]\rount  Washington,  the  loftiest  of 
our  Atlantic  country,  and  grand  with  its  great- 
est name.  Let  the  occasion  be  consecrated 
and  holy.  Now  sing  the  songs  of  Freedom. 
Now  quote  the  immortal  poets  ;  add  to  the 
mightiness  of  nature,  the  living  mightiness  of 
genius.  Let  Romance  and  Patriotism  grow 
religious,  and  in  still,  small,  and  solemn  tones, 
find  expression  through  sacred  hymn,  or  Holi- 
est writ.  Then  the  soul  shall  be  high,  and  lifted 
up  to  the  uttermost,  till  adoringly  lost  in  that 
^Nlost  High,  who  was  before  the  mountains 
were  brought  forth,  or  the  earth  and  the  woilds 
had  been  formed,  and  who  is  from  everlasting 
to  everlasting. 

So  do,  and  it  is  a  life's  one  occasion  of 
blessedness — Patriotism  and  Piety  in  a  mo- 
mentary perfection. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


WATER-FALLS. 


■  "  Now  that  I  have  communed  with  the  vast  — 


Seen  the  veil  rent  from  Nature's  stormy  shrine, 
Heard  her  wild  lessons  of  magnificence 
In  cataract  voices,  'mid  tiie  echoing  rocks, 

I  feel  a  louder  call  upon  my  soul 

A  trumpet  sound  ;  —  and  as  a  soldier  girds 
Himself  for  war,  so  will  I  gird  my  thoughts 
For  conquest  o'er  the  world  !  " 

Mrs.  Caroline  Gilmax. 

There  are  many  admirable  poetic  tributes 
to  the  scenery  now  in  view,  but  we  have 
quoted  this  fragment  because  it  is  crowned 
with  so  admirable  a  moral.  It  may  be  com- 
pared to  the  rain-bow  cloud  of  the  cataract  — 
a  glorious  spirit-like  being  born  out  of  tumult 
and  irresistibly  going  heavenward.  Read  the 
"  Poetry  of   travelling,"   and  especially  that 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER.  85 

intermingling  of  the  beautiful  and  grand  —  the 
lines  on  Trenton  Falls,  and  who  would  not 
visit  such  scenery,  and  also  catch  the  mighty 
inspiration  ? 

But  we  must  enter  into  prosaic  detail. 
First,  there  are  the  wild  rocks — some  round, 
some  jagged,  some  sharply  pointed,  jutting 
out.  shooting  up,  with  cracks  and  hollows,  or 
deeper  caverns  beneath,  and  gravelly  banks,  or 
rude  cliffs,  and  shrubs  or  trees  darkening  the 
sky  above  —  then  the  waters,  wilder  still  with 
their  swiftness  and  tumult.  First  the  calmer 
stream  pours  to  the  precipice,  then  the  tor- 
rent tumbles  this  way  and  dashes  that,  with 
foam  and  spray,  and  perhaps  rainbow,  and 
finally  rushes  into  the  deep  still  pool  as  to  a 
bed  of  rest  to  its  tired  energies.  It  may  be 
that  some  long,  high  rock  may  form  a  cascade, 
exhibiting  here  a  straightened  crystal  ribbon 
of  fluid,  and  there  the  most  delicate  threads, 
and  in  certain  positions  of  the  sun,  all  glitter- 
ing with  the  fascination  of  prismatic  col- 
oring. 

Scenes  somewhat  like  these  may  be  found 
in  the  vicinity  of  every  town,  at  least  in  many- 
8 


86 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 


hilled  and  many-watered  New  England.  Let 
such  scenes  be  sought  out  and  become  the  re- 
sort of  families  and  schools  as  a  delicious 
pastime.  With  judicious  teaching,  what  a 
spirit  of  patriotism,  and  of  religion,  might 
steal  forth  from  the  spectacle  into  the  shrine 
of  the  young  heart. 

We  would  have  every  x\merican,  at  least 
once  in  his  hfe,  visit  Niagaia.  If  from  the 
East,  let  him  take  the  minor  falls  in  his  way. 
Tiiere  is  the  Trenton,  the  bold  and  beautiful, 
arrayed  in  the  most  fantastic  costume  of  rock 
and  wood.  If  this  shall  be  the  first  considera- 
ble spectacle  of  the  kind  he  has  seen,  can 
he  but  exclaim  with  her  aheady  quoted  — 

"  My  God, 
1  lliank  thee  for  this  wondrous  birth  of  joy, 
Unfelt,  and  unimagined  till  this  hour  !  " 

Then  let  him  pause  at  the  Genesee,  until 
its  one  long  cascade  shall  impress  its  sober 
magnificence.  But  let  him  stop  and  abide  as 
long  as  he  can  at  Niagara.  He  has  been  pre- 
pared to  go  up  to  the  world's  wonder,  by 
successive    grades    of  romantic    and  religious 


WITH    WOIID  PAINTINGS.  87 

emotion.  He  now  stands  amazed  before  the 
power  and  majesty  and  glory  of  waters  ;  and 
his  spirit  bows  down  with  intensest  awe  before 
Him  who  spake,  and  the  cataract  was,  who 
wills,  and  it  continues. 

Here  might  Patriotism  swell  whh  its  loftiest 
aspirations.  Ye  energies  of  enterprise  !  tear 
down  the  hills,  fill  up  the  valleys,  bore  through 
the  mountains,  chequer  the  whole  land  with 
smooth  steamways,  until  every  son  and  daugh- 
ter of  our  country  shall  be  able  once  in  life  to 
behold  Niagara  !  be  able  to  come  where  the 
northwestern  seas  do  congregate,  and  with 
one  stupendous  voice  of  benediction  bless  the 
shore  of  freedom,  and  lift  Nature's  sublimest 
anthem  to  Freedom's  God,  before  they  de- 
part our  country's  line  and  lose  their  nationality 
in  earth's  common  deep. 

We  close  our  chapter  with  a  portion  of 
Mrs.  Sigourney's  sublime  apostrophe  to  Nia- 
gara. It  should  be  read  by  all  who  have  not 
beheld  and  listened  to  this  mi^htv  minister  of 
the  All-mighty,  to  induce  them  to  its  presence. 
Jt  should  be  perused  as  often  as  possible  by 
those  who  have  gazed  and  heard,  that  the  aw- 


83  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 

ful  lesson  may  not  be  forgotten  ;  and  also  be 
more  deeply  impressed  by  hand-maid  genius. 
We  may  somewhat  add  to  the  chances  of 
perusal. — 

"  Flow  on  forever  in  thy  glorious  robe 
Of  terror  and  of  beauty.     Yea,  flow  on 
Unfathom.ed  and  resistless.     God  bath  set 
His  rainbow  on  tl)y  forehead  ;  and  the  cloud 
Mantled  around  thy  feet.     And  He  doth  give 
Thy  voice  of  thunder,  power  to  speak  of  Him 
Eternally  —  bidding  the  lip  of  man 
Keep  silence  —  and  upon  thy  rocky  altar  pour 
Incense  of  awe-struck  praise. 

Thou  dost  make  the  soul 
A  wondering  witness  of  thy  majesty, 
But  as  it  presses  with  delirious  joy 
To  pierce  thy  vestibule,  dost  chain  its  step 
And  tame  its  rapture,  with  the  humbling  view 
Of  its  own  nothingness,  bidding  it  stand 
In  the  dread  presence  of  the  Invisible, 
As  if  to  answer  to  its  God  through  thee." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

OCEAN. 

'•  Great  beauteous  PeingI  in  whose  breath  and  smile 
My  lieart  beats  calmer,  and  ray  very  mind 
Inhales  salubrious  thoughts. 
The  Spirit  of  the  Universe  in  thee 
Is  visible;  thou  hast  in  thee  the  life, 
The  eternal,  graceful  and  majestic  life  — 
Of  nature,  and  the  natural  human  heart 
Is  therefore  bound  to  thee  with  holy  love" 

Camtbei-L. 

The  Ocean  !  What  spectacles  of  the 
most  various,  of  loveliest  beauty,  of  pic- 
turesque interest,  of  deep,  impressive  gran- 
deur, does  it  afford  to  him  who  will  but  pause 
from  his  play,  or  stop  from  his  labor  to  look. 
Note  on  the  shore,  the  milky  beaches,  the 
shooting  capes,  grey  with  ledge  or  green  with 
herbage,  the  ragged  rocks,  the  towering  cliffs, 
the  deep  fearful  gorges,  around  which  the  eter- 
nal tides  flap  and  dash  and  overwhelm.  Then 
its  waters  of  varying  hues  of  green,  as  they 
6* 


90  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

lie  close  under  the  eye  or  recede  therefrom, 
but  of  dark-blue,  as  they  stretch  toward  their 
shoreless  infinitude,  beneath  the  blue  of  the 
infinite  sky.  What  changing  aspects  does  the 
sea-surface  present  beneath  cloud  or  sunbeam, 
or  as  the  mist  hovers  in  folds  or  lies  in  strips 
just  above.      Then  the  vessel  that 

"  Walks  the  water  like  a  thing  of  life  :  " 

what  can  be  more  fascinating  to  the  vision 
than  this,  as  it  careers  on  its  course  in  full 
view  from  the  shore.  How  graceful  its  mo- 
tion ;  how  as  with  sudden  magic  its  form  and 
even  color  shift,  as  it  tacks  this  way  and  that, 
and  presents  prow  or  stern  or  broadside  to 
the  eye.  Then  what  a  difference  between 
the  shaded  and  the  sunny  side  of  the  sail. 
Let  the  object  be  a  great  ship  of  a  clear 
afternoon,  with  all  its  canvass  swelled  to  the 
utmost,  rounding  out  like  the  rolls  of  a  thun- 
der cloud,  and  all  this  reflecting  the  slanted 
but  bright  beams  of  the  descending  sun,  and 
we  cannot  better  express  ourselves  than  to 
say  that  it  is  glorious,  glorious  ! 

We  would  have  all  the  youth  in  our  country, 


WITH     WORD-PAINTINGS.  91 

from  the  sides  of  the  remotest  mountains,  for 
once,  if  possible,  visit  the  seaside,  to  behold 
and  wonder  at  the  marvels  of  God  around 
and  upon  the  great  deep.  If  they  could  not 
tarry  to  gaze  on  the  tremendousness  of  a 
storm,  they  might  at  least  treasure  in  remem- 
brance the  glory  of  a  sunrise  from  the  sea. 
For  the  sake  of  illustration  may  we  be  per- 
mitted to  present  a  scene  beheld  from  the 
window  of  our  chamber,  at  a  friend's  house 
on  a  high  ground  in  Marshfield,  the  descrip- 
tion being  penned  directly  afterward  on  the 
spot. 

The  eastern  sky  was  all  purple  and  gold, 
and  the  smooth  ocean  beneath  all  purple  and 
gold  from  reflection.  There  seemed  a  dou- 
ble aurora,  for  so  perfect  was  the  correspon- 
dence between  the  original  and  the  reflected 
light,  that  we  could  scarely  define  the  line  of 
the  horizon  that  parted  sky  and  water.  They 
were  fused  together,  as  it  were,  into  one 
changefully  efililgent  expanse.  Just  at  the 
point  in  the  horizon,  to  which  the  sun  was 
approaching,  there  soon  appeared  a  little  cen- 
tre from  which  radiant  hues  streamed  not  only 


92  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

upward  but  apparently  downward,  with  a  most 
magical  effect.  Shortly  there  was  a  glimpse  of 
reddish  gold.  Tiiis  elongated  into  size,  then 
rounded,  as  it  came  up  and  up,  till  there 
seemed,  as  it  were,  an  upheaving  hill  of 
flame,  till  half  the  luminary  was  above  the 
water,  when  it  gradually  sliaped  itself  into  a 
glowing  but  clearly  defined  and  mighty  globe, 
as  ready,  apparently,  to  roll  in  its  magnificent 
plenitude  round  the  horizon,  as  to  glide  and 
shrink  into  the  sky.  To  enhance  the  delight 
of  the  scene,  the  house  seemed  to  be  sur- 
rounded by  birds,  pouring  out  their  first  gush 
of  mingling  melodies,  as  it  were  in  praise  of 
the  Founder  of  the  seas  and  the  Father  of 
lights. 

Now  were  such  a  spectacle  to  be  presented 
in  nature  but  once  in  a  hundred  years,  and  the 
exact  moment  of  it  could  be  calculated,  how 
would  men  and  women  and  children  throng 
from  city  and  village  and  the  far  hills,  in  won- 
der to  behold  it  ! 

But  now,  who  thinks  of  travelling  a  mile, 
on  purpose  for  the  cheap  yet  intense  and 
exalted  pleasure  of  beholding  the  glories  of 
sunrise  at  sea. 


WITH    WORD-rAINTIXGS. 


93 


But  ye  leisure  summer  visitors  of  the  Atlan- 
tic coast,  is  it  possible  that  you  forego  the 
spectacle,  for  the  sake  of  late-sitting  frivolity 
at  night,  and  late-lying  insensibility  or  indo- 
lence in  the  morning  ?  Awake,  up  !  The 
clarion  of  Genius  calls, — let  the  soul  now 
listen  to  its  exulting  strains  ! 

"  With  thee  beneath  my  windows,  pleasant  Sea, 
I  long  not  to  o'erioolv  earth's  fairest  glades 
And  green  savannahs.     Earth  has  not  a  plain 
So  boundless  or  so  beautiful  as  thine. 

Nor  on  the  stage 
Of  rural  landscape  are  there  lights  and  shades 
Of  more  harmonious  dance  and  play  than  thine. 

There's  love 
In  all  thy  change,  and  constant  sympathy 
With  yonder  sky,  thy  mistress;  from  lier  brow 
Thou  tak'st  thy  moods,  and  wear'st  her  colors  on 
Thy  faithful  bosom. 

And  all  thy  balmier  hours,  fair  Element, 
Have  such  divine  complexion,  crisped  smiles, 
Luxuriant  iieavings,  and  sweet  whisperings, 
That  little  is  the  wonder  Love's  own  Queen 
From  thee  of  old  was  fabled  to  have  sprung." 

Campbell. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

•     THE  SKIES  OF  DAY. 

•'  The  sky  bent  round, 
The  awful  dome  of  a  most  mighty  temple, 
Built  by  omnipotent  hands  for  nothing  less 
Than  infinite  worship." — Peucival. 

How  infinitely  diversified  and  varied  is  the 
scenery  of  the  common  sky,  yet  the  million 
regard  it  mostly  as  the  source  of  fair  weather 
and  foul. 

First,  the  form.  The  curve,  of  all  fig- 
ures, is  the  most  charming  to  the  sight.  In 
the  sky  we  have  this  in  the  highest  possible 
perfection.  The  lines  of  utmost  beauty 
woven  into  one  all-surrounding  curve.  The 
centre  is  directly  above  every  beholder. 
The  zenith  ever  moves  with  him  and  pauses 
above  him  whenever  he  stops.  From  this 
point  down  to  the  whole  circle  of  the  horizon 
is   dimension,  the  largest  within  the  ability  of 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER.  95 

sense.  Then  the  color  wlien  entirely  clear, 
serenest  azure,  next  to  green,  the  vision's 
dearest  love.  We  cannot  briefly  better  de- 
scribe ihe  spectacle  than  to  say,  beautiful 
vastness.  When  the  atmosphere  is  at  the 
purest,  there  is  an  intense  pleasure  in  a  fixed 
gaze  just  at  the  one  heavenly  hue.  It  would 
seem  as  if  intervening  space  were  annihilated, 
and  the  azure  flowed  into  the  very  eye  ;  or 
rather,  perhaps,  as  if  the  sense  plunged  in  and 
were  lost  in  cerulean  luxury. 

Next  we  have  the  occasional  and  flitting 
garniture  of  the  sky.  There  are  forms,  and 
often  hues  in  the  flying  or  pausing  cloud 
worthy  detaining  the  eye  for  a  new  emotion  of 
beamy.  But  let  us  first  trace  these  fabrics 
from  their  source,  so  beautiful  are  their  begin- 
nings. There  is  the  vapor  as  it  smokes  up 
from  the  waters.  Perhaps  it  lies  heavily  for 
a  lime  like  a  light  grey  wall  over  tlie  distant 
stream.  Sometimes  it  rises  high  into  air 
at  once,  and  qiiiie  compactly  with  a  parted 
and  flighty  edge,  or  in  broken  masses,  each 
with  little  strips  above,  as  preceding  pointers 
to  the  direction  ;  or  it  may  be,  in  wreaihs  with 


96  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

a  sort  of  spiral  ascent  alternately  graceful  in 
form  and  movement.  How  cunningly  it 
creeps  or  fantastically  curls  up  a  mountain 
side,  then,  it  may  be,  infolding  its  crown  and 
matting  itself  into  a  cap.  In  certain  posi- 
tions of  the  morning  sun  its  glances  at  the 
mist  are  reflected  in  the  most  delicate  tinges, 
as  of  floating  changeable  gauze. 

Clouds  in  the  sky  ; — a  scenery  infinitely  di- 
verse and  ever  diversifying  anew.  Let  us  con- 
template and  analyze.  There  is  the  separate 
lonely  mass,  its  singleness  giving  interest. 
There  is  the  scolloped  circumference,  the 
inner  foldings,  the  middle  plainness  ;  these 
shaded  down  from  sunny  brightness  to  the 
dusk  of  the  smooth  centre.  It  rests  like  the 
car  of  a  reposing  demigod  on  the  serene  ceru- 
lean. It  may  be  borne  along  gently  by  the 
breeze.  Here  the  graphic  and  tasteful  genius 
of  Bryant  shall  lend  description.  He  makes 
such  an  one  the  chariot  of  his  Muse,  taking 
his  fancy  on  a  world-tour. 

"  Beautiful  cloud  with  folds  so  soft  and  fair, 
Swimming  in  the  pure  and  quiet  air! 
Thy  fleeces  bathed  in  sun-light,  while  below 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  97 

Thy  shadow  o'er  the  vale  moves  slow  j 
Where  midst  their  Jabor  pause  the  reaper  train 
As  cool  it  comes  along  the  grain." 

Sometimes  the  sky  is  all  crowded  with 
clouds  of  this  character,  a  multitudinous,  mul- 
tiform host.  It  is  the  noblest  grandeur  of 
cloudy  numbers  and  diversities. 

A  more  quiet  spectacle  is  the  vapor  lying 
farther  up  and  fastened  against  the  sky  in 
lengthy  bars  over-lapping  each  other,  or  with 
seams  of  clear  or  shaded  blue  between.  Or  it 
may  be,  there  is  the  appearance  of  innumerable 
little  hassocs  threading  out  from  a  thicker  cen- 
tre into  the  clear  interspaces.  It  is  enlivening 
again  to  observe  light  thin  clouds,  lower  down, 
brushing  frolicsomely  by  this  stable  ceiling, 
with  their  gauzy  wings. 

There  is  one  scene  for  which  the  coming  of 
summer  always  makes  us  glad  ;  and  if  pre- 
senting it  less  frequently,  we  feel  a  privation. 
It  is  when  the  thunder  chariots  are  rolling  in 
their  tardy  majesty  and  draw  together  and 
interlock  each  other,  as  if  in  thick  gathering 
at  some  magnificent  tournament.  See  their 
dark  bodies,  grey  borders,  and  brassy  rims. 
9 


98  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

What  grand  involutions,  like  as  wheel  upon 
wheel.  Or  perhaps  their  edges  point  out  like 
awning  pinnacles  under  the  sunbeams.  But 
these  disappear  as  if  drawn  behind  a  thick  dark 
curtain  to  hide  the  display  from  mortal  eyes. 
Through  this  the  lightnings  flash  or  dart  along 
in  momentary  crinkles,  terrificially  beautiful. 
Hearken  also  !  it  is  the  thunder  rolling  deep  and 
solemn  in  the  distance,  or  bursting  near  with 
a  sudden  crash,  with  echo  upon  echo,  rever- 
berating around  the  arena  of  the  storm.  We 
have  indulged  in  rather  a  classical  and  roman- 
tic view  of  the  scene.  It  is  better,  however, 
to  seek  religious  aspects.  It  is  the  Almighty 
who  buildeth  pavilions  there  and  inhabiteth  them 
with  his  thunders,  and  beareth  them  along  on 
the  wings  of  his  winds.  He  openeth  their 
folds  with  his  hand  of  lightning,  and  sweepeth 
it  in  swift  benefaction,  touching  the  air  with 
healing,  freshness  and  balm. 

Why  should  not  a  whole  school  go  forth 
from  their  uneasy  benches  and  sultry  confine- 
ment, and  watch  in  still  seriousness  such  a 
spectacle.  In  the  emotions  of  beauty,  grand- 
deur  and  sublimity,  called  forth  by  the  teach- 
er's aid,  the  terrors  usually  felt  would  subside. 


WITH     WORD-PAINTINGS.  99 

It  is  on  such  occasions  that  religion  should  be 
made  to  take  its  mightier  hold,  and  the  heart 
be  bowed  down  to  its  most  solemn  worship  ; 
and  all  this  without  an  abasing  shuddering  fear 
of  the  Invisible  Spirit  of  the  scene.  With 
love  and  filial  trust,  as  well  as  with  adoring 
awe,  they  might  contemplate  him  who  makeih 
the  clouds  his  chariot,  and  thundereih  marvel- 
lously with  his  voice. 

Then  after  a  shower  there  is  the  out- 
breaking sun,  the  glorious  rainbow,  the  glit- 
tering waterdrops  on  herb  and  tree,  and  the 
renewed  and  most  gladsome  minstrelsy  of 
birds.  But  poetry  from  the  earliest  ages  has 
been  so  lavishly  rich  in  its  descriptions  of 
these,  that  any  language  of  ours  would  be  tame 
and  altogether  useless.  There  is  one  little 
piece  of  literature  to  which  we  cannot  now 
but  refer.  It  is  ihe  ''  Scene  after  a  Summer 
Shower,"  by  Andrews  Norton.  Although 
read  by  thousands  a  hundred  times  over  in  Pier- 
pont's  Class-book,  it  will  bear  perusal  a  life 
through,  as  often  as  Nature  shall  renew  her 
original.  It  should  be  comn)itted  to  memoiy 
by  every  child  in  the  land.  Thus,  the  splen- 
dor, the  joy,  the  jubilant  religiousness  of  the 


100  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

spectacle,  when  recurring,  shall  be  more 
truly  received,  felt  and  reflected  by  his  mir- 
roring soul. 

We  have  already  portrayed  the  Morning  in 
some  faint  manner.  We  did  so  because  some 
of  our  readers,  we  fear,  have  not  much  ac- 
quaintance with  the  healthy,  lovely,  fascinating 
aspect.  We  wished  to  excite  some  curi- 
osity, and  if  possible  kindle  a  love.  But  the 
Evening  —  the  evening  sky,  all  see  this,  and 
who  of  the  very  least  taste  does  not  admire.  A 
thousand  writers  have  revelled  too  in  the  de- 
scription. Their  word-paintings  of  sunsets 
and  twilights  would  make  a  volume  of  them- 
selves. There  is,  however,  one  concomitant 
of  the  evening  glories  of  which  we  would  just 
give  a  hint.  It  is  their  reflection  from  a  still 
sheet  of  water.  The  scene  is  worth  walking 
a  mile  for  at  every  leisure  close  of  a  day. 

What  a  superb  reality  above,  yet  a  more 
transcendant  illusion  beneath.  The  eff'ulgent 
segments  of  two  heavenly  hemispheres,  rim 
to  rim,  fastened  by  a  narrow  hoop  of  earth. 
The  sun  is  going,  and  goes  down  ;  another 
sun,  a  luminary  twin,   face  to   face,  feature  to 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  101 

feature,  comes  round  up  to  meet  him  in 
affectionate  greeting.  They  gaze  upon  each 
other's  radiant  countenances,  and  retire  to- 
gether, as  it  were  to  hide  their  fraternal  em- 
brace behind  the  curtains  of  twilight.  Now 
how  hue  answers  to  hue,  shade  to  shade, 
in  all  the  varying,  deepening  changes.  Of 
the  two,  the  inverted  water-scene  is  tlie 
most  enchanting,  fiom  the  novehy  of  position 
and  the  more  delicate  softness  of  the  ra- 
diance. The  almost  spiritual  light  seems 
here  spiritualized  perfectly.  The  circles  of 
splendor  continue  to  glide  down  and  to  glide 
up,  meeting  together  and  narrowing  as  they 
pass  away,  till  they  are  but  glimpses,  and  are 
gone.  Meanwhile  two  vast  nights  have  been 
mutually  approaching,  marching  round  in  thou- 
sand-gemmed majesty.  Now  they  lay  to- 
gether their  star-girt  brows  in  embracing 
repose. 


9* 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  MOON. 

"  When, as  the  gairish  day  is  done, 
Heaven  burns  with  the  descended  sun, 

'Tis  passing  sweet  to  mark, 
Amid  that  flash  of  crimson  ligiit, 
The  new  moon's  modest  bow  grow  bright 
As  earth  and  sky  grow  dark." 

Bryant. 

It  is  said  somewhere  in  Walter  Scott's 
writings,  if  we  remember  rightly,  that  most 
youth  advance  not  beyond  sixteen  without  get- 
ting as  far  as  "  O  thou,"  in  a  sonnet  to  the 
moon.  We  have  never  even  till  now  so  far 
sought  favor  of  the  lovely  planet.  That  she 
may  not  now  deem  us  neglectful  in  our  skyey 
Sudatories,  our  sublunary  friends  will  pardon 
us  for  devoting  here  a  httle  plain  prose  in  her 
honor. 


THE    SCENERY-SHOWER.  103 

The  new  moon  is  always  a  welcome  sight. 
There  has  been  a  season  of  darkness.  Per- 
chance the  clouds  have  hid  the  stars,  making 
a  stumbling  night.  How  then  like  a  smiling 
lip  on  a  glowing  face  appears  the  delicate 
curve  on  the  roseate  twilight.  Well  may  it 
be  fancied  that  an  oracle  of  the  next  month's 
fortunes  is  uttered  therefrom.  How  many 
glad  voices  answer  back  from  the  earth  — 
''  There  is  the  new  moon  —  there  is  the  new 
moon  !  "  To  change  our  figure,  placed  as  it 
is  on  the  rear  of  the  day,  it  may  be  regarded 
as  a  little  bow  of  sweet  promise  that  every 
well  spent  day  shall  be  crowned  by  a  conscious 
peace. 

Then  there  is  the  later,  rounder,  and  finally 
the  full  orbed  queen  of  night.  With  what 
serene  dignity  she  rises  in  a  clear  east,  sweep- 
ing the  stars  with  her  silvery  veil.  She  daz- 
zles not  the  eyes  away  like  the  day-king,  com- 
manding man  to  useful  industry  ;  but  his  labor 
over,  she  invites  his  regards,  and  then  smiles 
him  away  to  repose. 

With  the  costume  of  parting  clouds,  she 
magnifies  her  beauty  to  the  majestic,  and  our 


104  THT!    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

soft  admiration  grows  intense  ;  we  do  roman- 
tic homage.  Behold  her  now  at  loftier  walk 
amid  the  stars.  Fleecy  clouds  perhaps  are 
trooping  past,  now  shading  her  beams,  then  let- 
ting them  through  folds,  or  flinging  them  from 
silvered  edges  as  they  leave  the  unspecked, 
brightened  azure.  When  the  scuds  are  rapid 
on  the  breeze,  how  sportive  the  scene.  It  is 
as  if  the  queen  had  put  aside  her  majesty,  and 
were  at  pastime  with  cloud  and  star.  Our 
own  spirits  dance  in  harmony.  We  almost 
wish  for  wings  or  power  of  disembodied  transi- 
tion to  soar  up  thither  and  mingle  in  the  magic, 
joyous  maze. 

The  autumnal  full  moon  is  the  perfection  of 
lunar  majesty.  It  seems  as  if  she  was  con- 
scious of  the  golden  lustre  of  the  harvests,  and 
the  eftulgence  of  leaf-hues  ;  and  conscious, 
too,  that  in  the  absence  of  solar  favor,  without 
her,  their  glory  would  be  looked  for  in  vain — 
all  dead  and  shrouded  in  the  pall  of  dark- 
ness —  the  far  star-gleams,  able  only  to  dis- 
close how  great  the  fading  away  had  been. 

The  going  down  of  the  moon  in  the  deep 
night  horizon  has  a  pleasing  beauty.     At  the 


WITH    WOUD-PAINTINGS.  105 

older  phases  there  Is  an  accompanying  pen- 
siveness,  as  being  after  midnight,  the  observer 
may  be  left  in  a  darkened,  sleeping  solitude, 
indeed  to  feel  alone. 

We  have  thus  done  our  first  public  devoir 
to  the  gentle  luminary.  To  our  readers  there 
was  no  need,  as  hundreds  before  have  held  uj) 
a  far  better  medium  of  admiration.  We  might 
have  quoted  from  the  poets,  but  we  would  in- 
dividualize our  offering,  though  it  were  through 
the  faint  sheen  of  our  own  language. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  STARS. 

•'  The  faded  West  looks  deep,  as  if  its  blue 
Were  searchable,  and  even  as  I  look, 
The  tvviligi)t  hath  stole  over  it,  and  made 
Its  liquid  eye  apparent,  and  above 
To  the  far-stretching  zenitli  and  around, 
As  if  they  wailed  on  her  like  a  queen, 
Have  stole  out  the  innumerable  stars 
To  twinkle  like  intelligence  in  heaven. 
Is  it  not  beautiful  ? 

Fit  for  the  young  affections  to  come  out 
And  bathe  in  like  an  element !  " 

Willis. 

To  the  informed  understanding  the  stars  are 
greater  singly,  than  the  earth's  nearer  satellite, 
however  charming  in  lier  friendly  lustre  ;  to- 
gether, they  are  the  mightiness  of  hosts  in  the 
suhlimity  of  magnitude  and  distance.  But  we 
must  now  view  them  simply  as  scenery,  the 


THE    SCENEUV-SIUnVEIl.  107 

vision's  "poetry  of  heaven."  Of  all  that  die 
sky  presents  there  is  perhaps  no  one  object  so 
bevvitchingly  beautiful  as  the  evening  star  at 
its  largest  phasis.  It  would  seem  that  the 
light  of  the  retiring  sun,  now  disparted  into 
manifold  splendors  and  hues,  had  passed  into 
golden  unity  again,  and  were  inurned  in  that 
star,  and  thence  streamed  down  in  liquid,  yet 
softest  glory.  No  wonder  it  has  been  named 
from  the  goddess  of  love  ;  for  if  the  seraphic 
effulgence  does  not  directly  exite,  it  certainly 
predisposes  to  the  tender  emotion  in  more 
melting  temperaments.  The  greater  leisure, 
and  the  play  of  more  delicate  sensibilities  at 
the  close  of  the  day,  and  the  twilight's  train 
of  charms,  all  conspire,  probably,  to  open  the 
heart  more  widely  to  this  flow  of  magic.  No 
wonder  the  poets  of  all  time  have  raved  of 
the  "  Star  of  eve."  They  have  found  full 
response,  at  least  from  the  earlier  and  more 
romantic  heart.  Our  youthful  readers  will 
not  be  displeased,  we  trust,  at  whatever  por- 
tion of  the  "  dewy  radiance  "  we  may  have 
caught  on  our  prosaic  page. 

We   now    turn    to     the    general    heavens. 


108  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

There  is  a  singular  aspect  of  them  worthy  of 
the  lifted  eye,  which  we  will  first  describe. 
It  is  when  they  are  all  dotted  over  with  small 
cloud-fleeces,  and  equally  marked  with  azure 
openings  ;  through  these  appear  the  stars  — 
perhaps  a  single  star  to  a  spot.  How  the  eye 
runs  bewildered  over  the  alternating  variety  of 
the  vault  ;  reposing  here  and  there  on  the  pil- 
lows of  cloud,  and  leaning  over  to  the  star- 
beams  from  those  cerulean  founts.  At  length 
some  single  luminary  fixes  the  gaze.  It  is  of 
larger  dimension,  or  some  deeper  emotion  is 
called  up  in  the  soul  by  its  peculiar  radiance. 
It  almost  might  be  fancied  that  the  spirit  of 
some  departed  friend  had  taken  abode  in  the 
fair  orb,  and  were  distilling  from  its  cherished 
affections,  sweet,  pure  influences  into  our  an- 
swering hearts.  Indeed  all  the  stars  have  a 
sort  of  spiritual  aspect  to  him  who  has  a  refined 
fancy,  and  aspires  after  the  beautiful  in  its  least 
sensual  forms.  When  the  day  toil  is  over,  its 
bustle  done,  and  tranquillity  falls  as  it  were 
from  the  great  calm  heaven  on  all  abroad, 
how  the  soul  is  charmed  away  to  the  stars,  as 
to  abodes  where  labor  does  not   weary,   and 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  109 

the  weary  of  this  world  may  at  length  find  rest. 
At  least  we  are  prepared  by  such  contempla- 
tion to  turn  away  and  shut  the  outward  sense 
to  sleep  with  the  inward  consciousness  that 
there  is  spread  abroad  within  this  resplendent 
garniture  of  stars  another  universe  of  purer 
and  more  enrapturing  loveliness  and  glory,  to 
the  revelations  of  which  we  shall  at  length  be 
received. 

A  clear  winter  night  is  the  season  to  feel 
the  great  ''  poetry  of  heaven  "  to  the  utmost. 
The  air  is  in  its  best  elemental  purity.  Let 
the  earth  be  mantled  with  the  unstained  snow. 
The  prismatic  atoms  of  the  surface  reflect  the 
star-beams,  and  spread  a  darkling  magnificence, 
as  a  carpet  fit  for  the  tread  of  upright  man, 
with  his  face  toward  heaven,  and  more  than 
ever  reahzing  the  honor  and  glory  with  which 
he  has  been  divinely  crowned.  Now  lift  the 
eye — lo,  a  vast  canopy  of  blazing  gems. 
Stand  and  gaze  straight  upward — it  holds  its 
central  height  directly  over  the  head  ;  walk  — 
the  cerulean  apex  proceeds  with  you  as  if 
borne  by  invisible  servitors  above  the  apparent 
lord  of  the  scene;  one  spacious  white  brilliancy 
10 


110  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 

of  foot-Stool,  one  vast  environage  of  stars  — 
all  owned  by  him  who  solitarily  stands  amidst. 
For^  him  the  "beautiful  vastness "  is  in 
jewels  —  a  royal  diadem,  or  rather  a  courtly 
roof  of  woven  diadems,  lifted  high  and  spread 
abroad  that  kingly  man  might  keep  the  glory 
of  the  emblem  over  his  head,  yet  be  free  from 
the  weight  of  its  richness. 

Thus  far  we  have  regarded  the  heavens  as 
a  scenic  expanse  ;  but  the  picture  retains  the 
eye  and  fills  the  fancy  an  illusive  moment  only. 
Religion  and  philosophy  speak,  and  the  spell 
is  done.  The  crowns  are  broken,  the  dome 
vanishes,  the  gems  grow  to  suns,  and  the  be- 
holder is  at  present  but  a  poor  vital  atom  amid 
the  glorious  infinitude  of  another's  realm  ;  he 
is  told  that  his  duty  is  perfect  obedience  to 
this  sovereignty;  his  honor,  that  he  is  an  immor- 
tal and  ever-growing  intelligence  ;  his  glory, 
that  he  is  the  offspring  of  God,  who  has 
prepared  a  crown  for  him  surpassing  the  stars, 
and  laid  up,  to  be  put  on  by  the  pure  in  higher, 
holier  heavens. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

WINTER. 

**  Come  see  the  North  wind's  masonry — 
The  frolic  architecture  of  the  snow." 

R.  W.  Emersox, 

Winter  also  has  its  scenery,  and  that 
of  a  more  peculiar  and  striking  interest,  inas- 
much as  the  infinitely  profuse  and  varied  spec- 
tacles of  the  open  portions  of  the  year  are 
almost_!entirely  withdrawn. 

What  delicate  adornments,  what  magnifi- 
cent shows,  what  exhibitions  of  the  grand 
has  winter.  Take  the  last  of  November  or 
the  beginning  of  December,  when  the  eye 
has  begun  to  be  quite  tired  and  sick  of  the  all- 
spreading  brown  and  barrenness,  and  who  does 
not  remember  and  feel  the  scene  we  will 
briefly  describe. 


112  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

The  clouds  gather  and  thicken  and  darken  at 
length  into  one  unvaried  hue  all  over  the  sky, 
lowering  down,  capping  the  mountains,  and 
almost  touching  the  hills.  There  is  no  wind, 
the  air  is  heavy  and  stilled  into  perfect  dead- 
ness.  There  are  guesses  that  it  will  rain. 
But  no.  The  cloud  at  the  distant  horizon  is 
shedding  its  contents,  and  there  of  a  hue  nov- 
elly  light.  The  heights  are  hidden,  as  by  a 
loose  curtain  of  mist.  At  length  they  drop 
from  right  above  the  head.  It  is  the  first  snow 
upon  the  prepared  and  waiting  ground.  Its 
damp  feathery  dabs  come  down  quite  perpen- 
dicularly in  the  motionless  air.  You  can  al- 
most count  a  hundred  of  them  before  they 
stop,  they  are  so  bulky  and  slow.  Look  up, 
and  how  curiously  the  white,  but  slightly  shad- 
owed millions  appear.  Look  down,  and  how 
they  pat,  pat,  countlessly  and  all  without  sound, 
except  it  be  the  gentlest  whisper  of  greeting 
to  the  welcoming  earth. 

For  a  few  moments  how  singularly  beauti- 
ful the  spectacle  of  the  bright  crystalled 
flecks,  sprinkled  all  over  the  dusky  ground, 
roofs   and  fences.      Soon,  a   universal  white 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  113 

prevails,  and  finally  it  is  noticeable  and  inter- 
esting, with  what  distinctness  the  foot  shapes 
of  the  household,  the  cattle,  and  even  the  do- 
mestic fowls  are  imprinted  on  the  thin  snow, 
as  on  the  smooth  plate  of  an  engraver.  Such 
occasionally  is  the  first  picture  in  the  exliibi- 
tions  of  winter.  Is  it  not  worth  asking  out- 
door boyhood  to  pause  before,  and  leading 
more  sedentary  girlhood  to  the  window,  to  look 
at.? 

But  let  me  present  picture  second.  We 
will  suppose  it  the  ensuing  day.  Fair  weather 
has  come — a  clear  blue  sky,  a  beaming  sun, 
and  a  still  atmosphere.  Now,  how  delightful 
the  contrast  with  the  melancholy  dun  of  yes- 
terday morning.  The  pure  white  carpet, 
spreading  all  round  to  the  whole  circle  of  the 
horizon  to  meet  the  pure  azure  canopy.  Let 
the  eye  be  so  placed  as  to  rove  across  a  plain, 
then  over  hill  above  hill,  and  finally  up  to  lofty 
mountains  piercing  heaven's  bluest  depths  with 
their  whitest  pinnacles,  and  you  have  an  ex- 
pansive magnificence,  and  a  towering  grandeur, 
such  as  the  stern  simplicity  of  winter  alone 
can  present. 

10* 


114  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

The  break  of  day  over  such  a  scene  is 
worth  taking  a  journey  for.  The  mountain 
height  faintly  reddens  in  the  ghmpse  of  the 
morning,  then  glows  more  distinctly,  then  glit- 
ters with  the  richest  radiance.  The  delicate 
rose-color  seems  to  run  from  this  point  as  from 
a  centre,  down  the  mountain,  and  over  the 
hill-sides,  and  thence  to  the  plains,  till  the 
whole  face  of  the  snow  is  in  blush,  as  delicate 
and  lovely  as  the  cheek  of  young  and  healthy 
innocence. 

Again,  there  is  a  grandeur  in  the  fierce 
snow  storm,  which  it  is  better  to  feel  and  en- 
joy, than  to  cower  over  a  fire,  thinking  noth- 
ing about  it  but  safety  from  its  violence.  How 
the  element  drives  through  the  air,  whirls 
round  the  edifice,  whips  against  its  sides,  ob- 
scuring with  its  flaky  mists,  the  objects  near, 
and  altogether  hiding  those  at  a  distance.  It 
is  romance,  it  is  rapture  to  let  one's  own  spir- 
its loose  also,  to  mingle  with  the  wild  career, 
and  become,  as  it  were,  a  very  portion  of  the 
harmless  tempest. 

Then  comes  the  clear  cold  next  day.  The 
furious    wind   whistles   from    the    north-west 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  115 

over  the. loaded  earth.  How  the  loose  snow 
scuds  before  the  blast,  down  the  hill,  through 
the  valley  or  across  the  plain,  and  up  the  hills 
again,  then  wheeling  into  the  enormous  drift, 
or  capering  over  its  ridgy  summit,  all  as  if  the 
snow  streaks  were  alive  and  mad  with  frolic, 
like  a  thousand  white  haired  coursers,  loosen- 
ed from  the  rein.  Were  such  a  scene  of  ele- 
mental sport  to  be  seen  but  once  in  a  lifetime, 
what  family  would  not  rush  to  the  doors,  what 
school  would  not  leave  study  and  play  to  enjoy. 
But  now  in  its  very  commonness,  not  one  in  a 
thousand  particularly  minds  it.  Yet  here, 
what  power,  what  swiftness,  and  withal  what 
grace  ! 

Would  that  all  the  rustics  of  our  country, 
shut  up  by  snow-drifts,  or  shivering  along 
highways  and  wood- paths,  could  be  aware  of 
these  solacing  charms  which  come  with  the 
winter's  cold. 

The  magnificence  of  ice-clad  trees  is  ar- 
resting to  the  dullest  eye,  and  withal  has  been 
so  often  portrayed  by  writers,  and  so  entirely 
above  our  equalling,  that  our  poor  pen  need 
not  describe  ;  and  indeed  it  would  be  dazzled 
away  should  it  make  the  attempt. 


116  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER. 

One  scene  more —  the  wintry-vernal,  if  we 
may  so  call  it.  We  have  the  longer  warmer 
days  of  the  earliest  spring.  Now  the  melting 
of  snows,  the  trickling  of  the  drops,  the 
gathering  of  the  streams,  the  gush  and  rush  of 
many  waters  —  there  is  a  wild  life  about  this, 
which  bewitches  the  spirit  into  it  somewhat 
as  the  snow  storm  did  from  whose  brooding 
repose  this  water-tempest  is  born.  Bryant 
has  thus  stirringly  sent  it  through  the  channels 
of  his  verse  :  — 

'*  Then  sing  aloud  the  gushing  rills 

And  the  full  spring,  from  frost  set  free, 
That,  brightly  leaping  down  the  hills, 
Are  just  set  out  to  meet  the  sea." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

CONCLUSION. 

'*  His  spirit  drank 
The  spectacle  ;  sensation,  soul,  and  form, 
All  melted  into  hirn  ;  they  swallowed  up 
His  animal  being  ;  in  thera  did  he  live, 
And  by  ihem  did  he  live;  they  were  his  life." 

Wordsworth. 

These  lines  express  the  enjoyment  to  be 
found  in  nature  by  thousands  and  tens  of 
thousands  who  are  now  without  it,  simply 
from  want  of  cultivation.  We  have  but 
poorly  executed  our  work,  but  we  trust  that 
it  may  be  of  some  use  in  leading  to  self-cul- 
ture, and  inciting  parents  and  school  teachers 
to  inspire  a  taste  for  scenery  in  the  young. 
Why  shall  the  sketches  of  painters  be  so 
much  sought,  and  the  originals  of  the  Infinite 
artist  so  much  neglected  .''  It  should  not  be 
so  ;  we  feel  that  it  should  not  be  so.  Walk 
into  a  city  gallery  of  a  pleasant  day,  and  you 


118  THE    SCENERY-SHOWER, 

hear  a  few  envied  people  of  leisure  criticising 
and  admiring  the  tints,  lights  and  shades  of 
the  mimic  landscape,  when  the  surpassing,  per- 
fected picturings  of  God  lie  in  exhaustless 
profusion  every  where,  to  be  discriminated 
and  admired  by  millions,  without  price,  and 
even  without  slackening  the  hand  of  gainful 
toil  ;  but  alas  !  now  they  are  as  a  blank,  ex- 
cepting to  a  comparative  (ew. 

O.  what  pastimes  of  body  and  spirit  teachers 
and  schools  will  have,  in  the  air,  in  the  beauty, 
the  glory  of  nature  abroad  ;  yea  what  ecstasy, 
when  they  shall  duly  estimate  the  differ- 
ence between  man's  mean  school-house  of 
timber  and  masonry,  and  this  not  made  by 
hands,  the  unwalled,  ever-aired,  and  healthy 
school-room  of  creation. 

Finally,  thus  let  our  country's  men  and 
women  be  trained  from  childhood  up,  and 
how  would  early,  rural  home,  be  all  sur- 
rounded by  pictures,  dear  to  taste,  to  imagina- 
tion, to  heart,  and  to  memory  ;  pictures  to 
which  those  once  resident  there  might  turn 
with  vernal  thrilllngs,  from  the  coldest,  darkest 
wintriness  of  prolonged  life.    Country,  more- 


WITH    WORD-PAINTINGS.  119 

over,  would  be  sprinkled  with  innumerable 
spots  to  which  the  heart  of  patriotism  would 
fasten  ;  yea,  into  which  it  would  grow,  if  we 
may  so  speak,  as  into  a  warm  living  bosom. 
How  could  such  fail  to  glow  with  most  effec- 
tual aspirations  to  improve,  and  bless,  and 
glorify  the  land  of  nativity,  and  the  heritage 
of  freedom. 

And  lastly,  but  most  especially,  let  the  idea 
of  the  holy,  parental  Creator  be  ever  con- 
nected as  the  all-pervading  and  upholding 
spirit,  and  how  would  religion  be  radiant  from 
each  tint  of  loveliness  ;  how  would  it  envel- 
ope the  forms  of  beauty,  and  the  masses  of 
grandeur,  and  overlay  the  mysterious  expanses 
of  the  sublime  !  How"  would  Religion,  going 
forth  from  this  inner  temple  of  the  soul, 
fill  with  its  holy,  enhancing  presence,  the 
great  outward  temple  of  God,  from  the  ver- 
dure and  flowers  around  the  altar  of  prayer,  to 
the  azure  and  stars  of  the  dome. 


THE  END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


^tMW^  APR  0 


1989 


si^teL 


>-EH  2,4  IP 


,C  SOUTHERN  "EGffi,\{gffiJ?BM 

ill 

B     000  003  197     1 


.^^B 


Univers] 

Southi 

Lihn 


JA 


